Mary Anne, Sweet 16
by hollygolightly61
Summary: Mary Anne's a junior in HS and sick and tired of being bossed around. It's time to make some drastic changes. Mary Anne's POV, obviously. First fanfic. Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"WHOOSH!"

My eyes screeched open at the sound of my alarm clock. I nearly jumped out of bed at the sound, my heart racing. My clock was supposed to use nice, soothing sounds instead of the generic beeping noises to wake people up, like gentle rainfall and bird whistles, but unfortunately the sounds were none too soothing. The gentle rainfall, which was blaring out of my clock, sounded like more like a violent hurricane than a lazy drizzle.

I quickly turned off the alarm, and attempted to rub the sleep out of my eyes. The clock was given to me a few weeks ago, by my best friend Kristy Thomas for my sixteenth birthday. It was a very nice gift and all, but I'm not sure why of all things Kristy decided to get me an alarm clock for my birthday.

I yawned and walked over to my vanity, where I had laid out my clothes the night before; a navy blue pullover sweater, a brown corduroy skirt, with brown mary-janes, and a new pair of diamond earrings that my father had given me. As I stripped out of my pajamas and started to dress, I caught sight of myself in the full length mirror.

I was pretty flat chested; my breasts were perched somewhere between an A cup and a B. I hadn't grown anywhere since my last spurt the summer before ninth grade, when I shot up three inches and was able to throw away my training bra. I mean, I didn't look terribly young, but sometimes I still felt it.

I finished dressing and quickly preened in the mirror before heading to the bathroom to brush my teeth. That's the nice thing about having short hair; I save so much time in the morning. While brushing, I pulled back the pink and orange flowery curtain (Sharon's doing, I thought they were disgusting) and looked out the window into the street below.

My father's car was already gone. He was spending more time at the office everyday it seemed. Sharon's Saab was still parked outside. She didn't go to work until nine, so she was most likely still sleeping.

I turned back to the sink to spit when I heard a car pull up outside and honk rather obnoxiously. Looking out the window, I saw Kristy's honda sloppily parked outside.

I looked at my watch. It was only 7:00; school didn't start until eight. Why was she so early? She honked again. I yanked the window open and thrust my head outside.

"Kristy," I warbled, my mouth still full of toothpaste spittle. "Stop honking, I'll be right down."

I could see her tap the steering wheel impatiently. I hastily rinsed my mouth out and ran downstairs, where I quickly filled Tigger's food and water dish and grabbed my backpack before running out the door.

Abby Stevenson was already sitting in the front seat, so I made a dash for the back. I had to smirk at the sight of Kristy's car. You could never tell she was a millionaire's kid. She had proudly bought the 86 Honda over the summer with her own money before she was even old enough to drive, calling it a "worthwhile investment". I'd call it a rattletrap that rivaled Charlie's old Junk Bucket. Besides the rust spots, and dent in the front passenger door, I noticed that one of the lens to the brake light was newly broken.

"What happened to your lens?" I said, climbing into the backseat.

"Don't say hello first," grumbled Kristy, jamming on the gas as soon as I closed the door.

Abby turned around and grinned, brushing thick dark curls out of her face.

"Let's just say that Kristy forgot backing up involved looking to make sure that no telephone poles, trees, or in this case cow shaped mailboxes were in the way," she laughed, punching Kristy in the shoulder.

I could see Kristy's face tighten in the mirror. She had only gotten her license two weeks ago, so she wasn't horrible for an inexperienced driver. But it wasn't in Kristy's nature to make mistakes, so driving could be a strained activity for her.

"Did you guys finish the History paper?" asked Kristy, eager to change the subject. She swerved around a rather sharp right turn and I clutched the door handle for dear life.

"Yeah, I did, but mine fucking sucks," said Abby, twisting her hair. "I totally stopped caring about half way through. Era of Good Feelings, my ass."

While Abby drabbled on about how she hated AP US History, I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. Rummaging through my backpack, my dread was confirmed when I saw that my History binder was missing.

"Oh, crap," I yelled. Both Kristy and Abby looked up. "I forgot my paper at home!" I had left it on the kitchen table last night to quickly proofread in the morning, but in my rush I had forgotten it all together. "Kristy, can you please turn around?"

"No," she said bluntly. "We don't have time, Mary Anne." She looked at me unapologetically in the mirror.

"But we still have plenty of time to get to school," I practically whined. "It's just past seven, and it only takes a few minutes…"

"I have an officer's meeting for Student Government this morning at 7:15," Kristy said. "I told you that I was going to be early yesterday at lunch."

I blinked. I didn't remember that. But Kristy was being really unreasonable. Ever since she was elected president of the Student Government at the beginning of the year, nothing else has seemed important.

"Can you have Sharon bring it to you on her way to work?" offered Abby, trying to be helpful.

"I guess," I muttered, although I knew Sharon would be none too pleased about running this extra errand. I slumped back in my seat.

"I'm sorry, but I can't go back for it," said Kristy, sensing my anger. "But I have to be there. I'm the president and things won't get done without me."

I didn't respond and was silent the rest of the ride. I never remembered her being this much of tyrant during her presidency of the BSC. I understand that she had to be to school at a certain time, but it would have cost her only five minutes at the most to turn around.

Kristy pulled into the SHS student parking lot and grabbed a nice spot, as there were few cars there at 7:15 in the morning. Making my way to the building, I walked quietly behind Abby and Kristy, who was practically sprinting to get to her meeting on time. Once inside, Abby and Kristy and I parted ways; they headed towards the junior wing, and I in the opposite direction towards the main office to call Sharon.

"Bye, Mary Anne" called Abby, turning and walking backwards. "See you at lunch!" She gave an exaggerated and goofy wave over her head that made me laugh.

Seeing as there was no one else in the hallway, I waved back in the same way, giggling. Kristy ignored us both and continued to walk quickly, not even saying goodbye.

Some best friend.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed, and for all the helpful hints. I'll have to go back and edit the first chapter sometime soon. For now, here's the second one. There are probably a lot of grammatical errors or other mistakes that I didn't catch, as it is very late right now and I'm getting a little too sleepy to string together sentences that make sense.

Oh I guess I better do that disclaimer thing.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters in the BSC or affiliated with the BSC. AMM does. I just like to borrow them from time to time.

Chapter 2

After waiting a half an hour in the main office, Sharon breezed in with my history paper. I had called her reluctantly that morning, although, as I suspected, she wasn't too happy about it.

"Really, Mary Anne," she scolded in front of the whole main office secretarial staff. "It took me ten minutes just to find your paper. I'm going to be late for work."

She smoothed her wrinkled skirt, which probably had come from the bottom of the laundry pile. I had half a mind to call her on her mismatched earrings.

"Sorry," I mumbled weakly, looking fixedly at my shoes so as to ignore Sharon's disapproving scowl and the nosy stare of Mrs. Moser, the elderly head secretary.

I really wanted to ask her why it took ten minutes to find the binder when it was only on the kitchen table, but I knew better of it. Maybe she forgot where the kitchen table was. Her absent mindedness seemed to get worse everyday. I know it drove my dad nuts. Sharon means well, but her flightiness can be too much for anyone.

"I didn't even get to have breakfast this morning," continued Sharon. "I'll have to stop at Dunkin Donuts so I don't pass out before lunch." She said Dunkin Donuts like it was a nuclear waste site.

"I said I was sorry." My voice cracked, and I could feel my eyes welling up with tears.

"Oh, don't cry Mary Anne," she said in a tone that was less than comforting. "I don't mean to yell. Are you going to be okay?

"Don't worry about it," I muttered. I just wanted her to leave. If she was so busy to get to work, why was she standing there lecturing me? "Thanks for bringing my paper."

"Just try not to be so forgetful," she said, giving a quick and rather cold hug. She left the office in a huffed sigh, tripping on her heels as she left.

I ducked out of the office with my head down to avoid Mrs. Moser's snooping gaze, and headed to first period, which I was already ten minute late for. I felt my face; it was burning hot and I knew it was probably puffy. I stopped in the bathroom before going to class so I wouldn't look like death in front of everyone in Psychology.

I splashed my face with water and checked my reflection in the mirror. I looked like a cherry tomato with brown hair. I fanned my face to cool it down. I couldn't believe Sharon lectured _me _on being forgetful. I wasn't the one who put car keys in the freezer or milk in the china cabinet. I breathed a deep sigh.

I hate crying and the fact that I burst into tears at the drop of a hatpin. I've gotten better since I was younger; I no longer cry at Hallmark commercials or every time someone goes on a weekend vacation, but I'm still too sensitive for my own good. Crying in front of the whole main office and my stepmother like a beaten puppy at sixteen years old wasn't just embarrassing, it was childish.

"Calm down, Mary Anne," I said to my reflection. I patted my face dry and ran my fingers through my hair before going to first period.

By lunchtime, I had luckily calmed down completely. I was also starving, and even the turkey cubes and gravy that the cafeteria was serving looked slightly appetizing. Sharon wasn't the only one who hadn't eaten that morning.

After getting lunch, I spotted Abby, Kristy, Miranda and Mariah Shillaber and a few other girls sitting at a table in the middle of the cafeteria. We usually tried to grab a table by the windows, but there was never any order as to who sat where in the cafeteria. Depending on how cramped the tables got, sometimes even my friends Stacey and Claudia joined us. But that wasn't very often.

I passed the table where Stacey was sitting, where she was laughing over something with Sheila McGregor, Sabrina Bouvier, Pete Black and a few other people. She smiled wanly at me as I went passed. The last time I had talked to her was at my sixteenth birthday party. I was surprised that she had come at all. We were still friends and everything, but we only hung out on rare occasions that became even rarer as time went on. The same applied to Claudia, who was no where to be seen in the cafeteria. She probably skipped out to get lunch at McDonalds or somewhere, even though we technically weren't allowed leave school at all during the day. Looking at my congealing turkey mess, I didn't blame her.

I sat down next to Miranda and a girl named Tawny Hennessey, who had moved to Stoneybrook in ninth grade. Lunch had barely begun, and Kristy was already making some gross concoction with her lunch.

"It looks like the sheep brain I dissected in AP Bio last week," she said, pouring her milk into the turkey cubes and gravy.

Abby snorted, while Mariah rolled her eyes.

"Kristy, that's disgusting," she said looking sick, pushing her away her tray. "Aren't we a little old to be playing with our food?"

Kristy rolled _her_ eyes at Mariah and shoved a spoonful of the milk and turkey glop into her mouth. It was my turn to feel sick.

"You're in a better mood this afternoon," I quipped, trying to sound cheerful without looking green. I peeled the plastic cover off my applesauce, deciding it was maybe a better idea to start with that than the turkey cubes and gravy. "How did the Student Government meeting go?"

"Okay," said Kristy, before chugging the rest of her milk. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve. It was unbelievable the way she had transformed from Ms. Bossy President of that morning to the sloppy goof that was sitting in front of me.

"I wanted to turn the Thanksgiving Food Drive into a class competition, but Ms. O'Rourke doesn't thinks it's good idea to turn a charitable event into something competitive."

"Why?" scoffed Abby. "So people might actually give more than the two cans of green beans and box of crackerjack that was donated last year?"

"That's what I said!" Kristy practically yelled. "Especially if the prize for the winning class was something like picking the colors the other classes had to wear during Spirit Week, so say if the Senior's won they could make the freshmen wear something ugly, like pink."

"That's not a bad idea," said Mariah, chewing her turkey cubes thoughtfully. She seemed to have forgotten her disgust. "If you got the class homerooms involved you'd probably get a lot of canned goods."

While Kristy and everyone tossed ideas around the table for a bit, I noticed that Tawny was silent. All through lunch she had seemed glum; her hair hung in her face and she pretty much just poked at the sandwich in front of her.

"Hey, Tawny, is everything okay?" I asked quietly. I didn't want to draw too much attention from the rest of the table, in case she didn't want anyone-including me-to know what was bothering her.

"Yeah, I'm just a little depressed," she replied, playing with a strand of her long blonde hair. "I failed my driver's test this morning."

"Oh, that sucks," chimed in Miranda, who had overheard. She gave Tawny a sympathetic look. "I failed the first time too. Mariah had to take it three times."

Mariah glared at her twin sister.

"I wouldn't worry about it," I said, intervening before Mariah said something nasty to Miranda. "You were probably just nervous."

"I hope so," said Tawny. "Either that, or I just suck." She placed her chin in her hands and rested her elbows on the table.

"You can't be any worse than Kristy," laughed Abby, tipping back in her chair. "I think Stevie Wonder was her driving examiner, because there's no way she should have passed."

I giggled, while Kristy shot Abby a nasty look and stuck out her tongue, which was covered in turkey bits.

"Wait until you start driving," retorted Kristy. "You won't know your ass from the stick shift."

"Well you have to wait only one more week," said Abby, leaning even further back into her chair. "I'll be sixteen then and tearing up the road." She pretended to head bang while steering an imaginary wheel. She almost fell backwards into Dorianne Wellingford, who looked at Abby like she was something filthy stuck to the bottom of her Uggs.

"Klutzy dyke," she mumbled under her breath as she passed.

I gasped, while Abby's jaw dropped with shock. That was a horrible thing for Dori to say, although I wasn't surprised. Throughout high school, she had practically usurped Cokie Mason's title as biggest resident bitch. I'm not sure what had happened to her; she used to be so nice.

Nobody said anything, but Abby's face quickly lost its shock, and turned into a nasty glare. She gave Dorianne's direction the middle finger.

"Bitchy cunt" muttered Abby. "I should go up there and show her what I can do with these huge bull dyke muscles."

For a minute, I thought she might stay true to her word and go show Dori a piece of her mind, but luckily the bell rang before she had a chance. We quickly threw away our mostly uneaten lunches and made a mad dash for the door. Five minutes to get to our lockers and sixth period was definitely not enough time when fighting the crowded hallways of SHS.

Later that day, I met Kristy outside the junior wing exit to walk to her car. Abby had to stay after school for varsity soccer practice, so it was just me and Kristy. It was a beautiful October day, clear and warm. Newly fallen leaves crunched under our feet as we walked across the lawn.

"Hey, do you know if Abby is doing anything for her birthday next week?" I asked Kristy as we crossed to the parking lot.

"I don't think she is," said Kristy. "Her mother doesn't want to do anything big without Anna, and she isn't sure if she can come home next week."

Anna was accepted into a rather prestigious boarding school in Massachusetts last year. They have a nationally acclaimed orchestra, and it seems that Anna is busy every weekend with concerts or practices. I don't think I could ever do one thing so much. Abby once said that Anna practices her violin even on the toilet.

"Well, we should do something for her," I said. "We could have something small at my house, or we could all go see a movie or go to dinner."

"I don't know," replied Kristy, sounding doubtful. "Maybe we should just wait and see what she's doing. I don't want to plan something and then find out her mother already has something else arranged."

I guess she had a point. We reached to Kristy's car and she unlocked the door.

The drive home was fairly silent. We listened to an old David Bowie tape that Kristy had found among her mother's old stuff in the attic over the summer and let that do the talking for us.

Kristy pulled up to my house. I grabbed my bag out of the backseat and opened the front door.

"Thanks for the ride," I said. I stepped outside and went to slam the door.

"Hey, I just wanted to say I'm sorry for this morning." Kristy apologized quickly, saying everything in one big breath.

"That's okay," I said, fiddling with a keychain on my backpack. "Don't worry about it."

It seemed that I had told a lot of people that throughout the day. It had become a meaningless string of words; a stock solution to people's-my own- petty little problems. It seemed it was the only piece of advice that I could offer to anyone anymore.

"I won't worry about it," replied Kristy. "But I did feel bad about it, just to let you know." She looked sincere.

"Really, it's okay," I said, repeating myself. "Do you want to come inside for a little bit?"

"No, I better not," she said. "I have a lab and bunch of other stuff due tomorrow. Plus, I want to go for a jog to get ready for softball practice."

"Isn't softball in the spring?" I asked, confused. "Why are you guys having practices now?"

Kristy rolled her eyes at me.

"We aren't having practices, I'm just out of shape," she said, even though I knew she wasn't. "I have to start exercising now on my own if I want to start in the spring." She said this matter of factly, as if I were an idiot for not understanding what she meant.

"Oh," I said sheepishly. "Well, have fun with that."

I closed the door and Kristy sped down the street. I gave a half hearted wave from the front porch. I collected the mail from the box, but on the ground, I noticed there was a large brown paper package.

I picked it up. It was addressed to Sharon. I thought it might have been something she had ordered from a catalogue, when I noticed the return address. It was from Mr. Schafer.

That was odd. Sharon and Jack rarely talked, let alone send each other gifts in the mail.

Curiosity creeping over me, I gave it a light shake to see if I could tell what was inside, but it was to no avail. Still puzzled, I brought it and the rest of the mail inside and set it on the kitchen table. Tigger came running from downstairs and brushed against my leg. I gave him a quick scratch on the head.

"I wonder what Jack sent to Sharon," I said aloud, bending down to pat Tigger.

He just mewed.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Part of me wanted to call Dawn and ask about the package her father had sent, even though it was slightly past noon in California and she was still in school. I decided against calling her cell phone; Dawn hates it about as much as she hates red meat and Republicans. She was practically dragged into the cellular world kicking and screaming when Jack and Carol forced her to buy one to be able to keep track of her better.

Dawn and I have a delicate relationship. After my stepsister and former close friend decided to live in California permanently, our friendship seemed to change little. At first. Then the phone calls became less frequent and visits were either cut short or cancelled all together due to seemingly less important events like concerts or parties. Any time I did get a chance to talk to her or see her, there was always a bored tone in her voice, like she'd rather be doing something else. Dawn was supposed to come for my sixteenth birthday, but as usual, something came up.

Nowadays, our relationship is what one would expect from stepsisters separated by 3000 miles; polite, cordial, but void of any real closeness. Yet Dawn wasn't the only friend I lost in the years to come.

Right before entering the ninth grade, Claudia, Stacey, Kristy and I decided to disband the babysitters club. Nobody's heart was in it anymore, even Kristy's, and high school promised to take up more time than running the club would allow. After the BSC dissolved, Claudia and Stacey began drifting away from Kristy and I; Stacey started hanging out with Sheila MacGreggor's and Heather Epstein's group, while Claudia seemed to hang out with different people every day. Logan, well, that's another story. Kristy was pretty much the only close friend I had left, and during the first year of high school I think I would have had a nervous breakdown if it hadn't been for her.

I went up to my room and started my math homework. Pre calc is possibly the bane of my existence. I can't believe I actually used to _like_ school. After about an hour of struggling with derivatives, I switched to my _Antigone _reading, which was almost as bad. I got about halfway through until I gave up on homework and started dinner.

Over the years, Sharon's adjusted to our "East Coast" diets (which I think is kind of bogus- I'm sure there are plenty of meat/junk food eaters in California) _somewhat_, so dinner has become less of a tribulation. Now it's okay for us to eat a steak or some other form of dead animal carcass once in awhile. Provided there is some vegetarian side dish for Sharon to have while the rest of us murderers dine.

I turned on the radio to WSTO while I set a pot of water on the stove to boil. The package was on the kitchen table where I had left it. It wasn't heavy at all; in fact it felt like there was almost nothing at all packed inside. I picked it up again and shook it next to my ear.

"What's that?" asked Sharon, from behind me.

I nearly jumped three feet into the air. I didn't hear Sharon come in over the radio.

"Nothing," I stammered, my face reddening for some reason. "I mean, nothing of mine. It's a package for you from California." I handed the package to her, sheepishly, like I'd been caught doing something wrong.

"Well, please don't shake packages that are addressed to me," she scolded, kicking off her shoes in the middle of the kitchen floor. "Are you sixteen or six?"

She took the package from me and looked at the label quickly before sitting down on the floors and ripping into it like a child on Christmas.

"And I'm the six year old?" I muttered quietly beneath my breath.

Luckily Sharon was too engrossed in her package to hear what I had said. Through the wrappings, she unveiled some ugly orange paisley print cloth. As she unfolded it and held it up in front of her, I saw that it was a floor length dress with an empire waist and burgundy doily like material fringed on the bottom and the sleeves. It was the possibly the grossest looking dress I'd ever seen.

"It's my wedding gown," said Sharon softly, smoothing over the wrinkles in the fabric very carefully. Her eyes began to mist up a little at the edges. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Luckily she didn't expect an answer, and even if I did want an answer, she ran into the hallway and into the downstairs bathroom. I remembered all the fuss about the wedding dress when she and dad got married. She had wanted to wear it at that wedding, but nobody could find it and Sharon certainly didn't remember where she had put it. I don't think I have ever felt so happy about Sharon misplacing something. I examined at the remains of the package that she had just opened and noticed a note among the strewn pieces of packaging material. I looked at the bathroom door where my loony stepmother was doing god knows what, and quickly picked up the note and unfolded it.

_Dear Sharon,_

_Mrs. Bruner and I cleaned out the old storage locker the other day for the first time in about seven years and we found the missing wedding dress! It was in a container marked "Dukakis Election Materials", so no wonder we were never able to find it, haha. I thought you would like to have it, seeing as it is yours. We cleaned out a bunch of other things, some of which you might like, some of which can probably be trashed. Give me a call sometime, I miss you. Even your messes. The kids miss you too. Jeff's doing great at lacrosse; he's the youngest player on the Varsity team. Even if he doesn't play half the time. It'd be great if you could come out and see a game. Well anyway, enjoy the wedding dress, and I'm sure you'll look as beautiful in it as you did the day we were married._

_Say hi to Mary Anne and Rich for me._

_- Love Jack_

An inexplicable chill went up my spine. Jack was inviting Sharon to California? It seemed odd. I wonder how Carol felt about that. Or how my dad would feel about it. I wasn't positive how _I _felt about it. Sure, a vacation from Sharon would be nice, but the whole tone of the letter was a little unsettling. It seemed a little_ too_ friendly to be written to your ex-wife who was married to another man.

The water on the oven began to boil over the edge of the pot, so I quickly placed the note on the empty package before attending to it. About a half second later, Sharon emerged from the bathroom.

My jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Not surprisingly, Sharon was wearing the wedding dress. It was a little tight, and the zipper in the back was only about halfway up, but she looked like a completely different person. She had let her hair down, something she didn't do too often. I had forgotten how long it was. The dress was certainly ugly, but it seemed nicer actually on Sharon. My stepmother usually wore more conservative clothing appropriate for the office, but the bohemian look suited her more. Her face had a lighter expression on it as she began to swirl around the kitchen to the tune on the radio, Cam Geary's new pop single, seeming to forget that I was there completely. She took my hands and began to dance around the kitchen with me.

"Dance with me, Mary Anne." Sharon's voice had taken on a dreamy tone.

I wasn't sure whether to laugh or call the insane asylum.

She began to sing along with the words on the radio, something I preferred she let Cam Geary do, when she noticed the note on the floor. She read it intensely to herself, and then folded it neatly.

"What did the note say?" I asked. I wondered if Sharon would actually let me see it.

"Ohh, nothing really," replied Sharon, after a short pause. "It was from Dawn. I guess she found it in an old storage locker of ours. She had her father send it to me the other day as a surprise. She says hello."

Liar.

"Oh, can I read it?" I asked innocently, trying not to sound too prying or interested. It bothered me that she was lying about it. She could have just said it was private. Her face stiffened at my request.

"No, it's private," she snapped, reading my thoughts. "And you better take care of that spaghetti. I think it's beginning to burn." She breezed by me, heading towards the staircase. She turned back around at the edge of the banister.

"I'm sorry that I've been in a bad mood lately," she said, looking at the floor. "It's just that I miss Dawn and Jeff."

And Jack, I thought, bitterly. And your old way of life. I wanted to ask her why she was lying, but all I could muster was a lame "that's okay", as I turned off the stove.

"Oh, and I don't think you should tell your dad about the wedding dress," she said casually from the stairs. "I'm not sure he would like it, and we wouldn't want to worry him." She attempted a fake laugh, but we both knew it was artificial.

I tossed a salad with plenty of garbanzo beans and alfalfa sprouts and set the table. I wanted to leave the remains of Sharon's package on the floor for dad to see when he came home, but decided against it. If she wants to have her secrets, let her. She'll pay for them later. Dad arrived home about five minutes later. He looked tired, so luckily for Sharon dinner was quiet, without him asking too many questions about how our day went. I noticed nobody ate much.

I let Sharon take care of the dishes, as I went to my room to finish my homework. I couldn't concentrate at all this time, so I decided to give Kristy a call. I went to my dad's study to use the phone in his office, but he was there at his desk poring over papers from his briefcase.

"Hey dad," I said quietly, hanging in the doorway, hoping I wasn't disturbing him.

If I was, he didn't show it. He looked up from his papers and smiled his slight grin, welcoming the break. My dad did most things subtly and conservatively, including smiling. But he doesn't need to have a huge grin to show that he cares.

"Hello, Mary Anne," he answered. "How was your day?"

"Oh, okay," I said. "I forgot a paper at home and Sharon had to bring it to school for me. I'm going to help Kristy with the food drive this year." I told him more about Kristy's plan, sticking to that and glossing over the finer details of the day, editing out the bits I didn't think Dad would like to hear and that I really didn't want to talk about.

"Kristy and her great ideas." My dad smiled again, although it seemed a little strained. I noticed he was beginning to gray a little at the temples and there were lots of fine wrinkles around his eyes. "She's inventive, that's for sure."

"Yeah," I said. "She's something. Actually I was just going to call her."

"Okay, but keep it short," my dad replied. He's still pretty strict about me using the phone on school nights.

"Okay." I gave him a quick hug before leaving. "Don't stay up too late."

"I'll try not to" he said half-heartedly. I looked at his huge stack of papers and knew it was going to be a long night.

I went downstairs, where I could hear Sharon in the den, saying goodbye to someone on the phone. I nearly bumped into her as she came walking out.

"Were you listening at the door?" she barked, holding the portable phone at her waist. "I can't get a moment's peace!" She looks overbearing and accusatory. Gone is the happy, dancing lady of the past afternoon.

"Calm down, I just came down the stairs," I retorted with more bite in my voice then I expected to have. Sharon seems surprised at the tone of my voice too. "If you're done with the phone, I would like to use it."

She practically tossed the phone at me before flouncing back into the den. I stepped outside onto the porch for privacy as I dial Kristy's number. It's chilly out. I hugged my body as the phone rings in my ear.

"Hello, Brewer-Thomas residence," said Karen's voice on other end. "With whom do you wish to converse?"

I rolled my eyes. Karen's a very precocious child, but extremely pretentious. I know the Brewer-Thomases have caller ID, so her question was simply a chance to show off.

"Hey Karen, put Kristy on," I asked.

A few moments later, Kristy picked up on the other end.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Hey Kristy, it's Mary Anne," I started, but before I could tell her about Sharon and the package, Kristy begins to talk about an idea she has for the Fall Ball, something about a Masquerade. She prattled on for a while, trying to make it sound like it's the most original thing in the world, even though I know something like that gets suggested every year. I listened closely, even though I really don't care. It's about fifteen minutes before I could speak.

"So, I have to tell you about this package Sharon got today," I said finally, after Kristy's tirade about stupid preps who want to have the same decorations every year. "Jack sent it…"

"Actually, can you tell me tomorrow?" interrupted Kristy rudely. "I have to finish a lab before tomorrow, and I really should get back to it. Plus David Michael's been bugging me to use the phone."

"Well, can I call you on your cell?" It wasn't after nine yet when our free minutes kick in, but I wasn't sure I could wait until tomorrow.

"No, I really can't. I have a lot of work." Kristy assumed her business voice, firm and unrelenting. "Talk to me tomorrow."

I felt like an unimportant client talking to my busy lawyer, not someone's best friend of 16 years. My face grew hot.

"Some friend you are," I yelled into the phone. "I listen to you talk for a half hour about some stupid idea for a dance, and you can't even give me five minutes! You've turned into a real bitch, Kristy Thomas!"

The words flew straight from my mouth. All the anger from the day exploded into the receiver, and I could practically hear Kristy bristling on the other end.

"Don't get mad at me," she shouted. "I'm sorry I'm the only friend you have anymore to dump your anger on when something doesn't go right, but that's not my fault."

"Hah," I yell back. "You're not my only friend. I'm the only friend you have that will put up with your nonsense. Just because Abby or whoever won't let you walk all over them doesn't mean you have to always treat me like dirt!"

"Why don't you get one of your other friends to pick you up tomorrow," bellows Kristy. "Don't expect me to!"

"Fine!"

I hang up the phone on her. I want to throw it on the sidewalk. I want to run over to her house and slap her in the face, and then come home and slap Sharon. I want to call someone else and vent. But Kristy's right. I really don't' have any other friends. I don't feel close enough to Abby or anybody else at school. I can't call Dawn anymore. I can't even talk to my family.

So instead I sat on my front porch and cried alone in the dark.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks to everyone who R&Red. I dropped this story a long time ago, but decided to pick it up again for some reason. I am going to try to update fairly often (like maybe once a week or every few days)...I even have a few chapters waiting in the wings! Sorry it took almost a year and half to update!

Chapter Four

The next day I tried to start my walk to SHS early, but by the time I found my missing boot and ironed the wrinkle out of my skirt, it was already 7:30. Last night, I forgot to set my alarm clock and woke up a half an hour late. Not to mention that I didn't lay out my clothes the night before either, and despite my already being late I couldn't decide on an outfit I liked. SHS isn't that far from Burnt Hill Road, but even if I walked at a brisk pace, making it to homeroom by 7:50 was up in the air.

I cut through the McGill's side yard. Stacey's miata was missing from her driveway. I had thought about maybe asking her for a ride, but I couldn't help but feel sort of relieved that asking Stacey McGill a favor was not an option. I hurried my stride and cross Elm Street to Bradford Court.

Immediately I saw Claudia walking at a leisurely pace ahead of me. It would have been hard to miss her. She was wearing a short black ruffled mini skirt covered in silver tulle, a black sweater with puffy three quarter length sleeves, teal lame leggings and black knee high boots with three inch heels. She turned around as she saw me walking towards, and I noticed that she was wearing a tie with a screen-print of a painting I didn't recognize, possibly because it was a Claudia Kishi original. She was lighting up a cigarette and took a long puff as I approached her.

"Hey, Mary Anne" she said, stopping long enough for me to catch up. "I don't see you walking too often."

"Oh, well, at least it's still warm out" I replied. I didn't want to explain my fight with Kristy. "How are you?"

"Oh, you know, same as ever," sighed Claudia. "Failing math again, but hanging in there as always." She tapped some of the ash off the bottom of her cigarette. Claudia had failed tenth grade math last year, and only managed to somehow squeak by in English and History. She had opted not to take Chemistry this year. I thought it was a wise choice on her part.

"Well, how's the play going?" I asked. In high school, Claudia had become quite the thespian, developing acting skills out of nowhere, most recently in the fall production of _The Real Thing_. She also usually designed a lot of the sets and costumes. I wasn't surprised that she was failing math, seeing as she spent so much time involved in the arts.

"It's okay," she said. "Stoppard's a genius, although some of the parents were complaining at the board meeting that the material is too heavy for a high school play. Also, Mr. Cheney told me that if I want to be a serious actress, I have to quit smoking. Whatever. All those celebrities smoke." She rubbed out the cigarette on the sidewalk as we approached the high school. The empty courtyard was a discerning sight. Only a few staggering students who didn't look like they were in any rush to get inside were in sight.

"Oh, no," I cried, breaking into a quick pace. "I think we're late." As if on cue, the bell rang signaling the beginning of homeroom. I nearly broke into a sprint. "I have never been late before. I haven't missed a day of school since I caught the flu in ninth grade."

I looked back and Claudia was standing there giving me a weird look and I realized how much of a dweeb I sounded. But I still wanted to get to class.

"Aren't you coming?" I asked, pausing for a minute. Claudia didn't say anything at first and looked thoughtful for a moment, like she was considering her options, and then plopped down on the grass. I couldn't believe it.

"Nah," she said. "I haven't skipped in almost a month. Well, not a whole day at least. That's like a record for me. Plus I didn't do my homework, so there's no point, right?" She started to light up another cigarette. I was glad she had chosen to smoke behind a large pine tree where no one from the high school could see.

"Claudia, you're not going to pass math this way," I scolded, although I tried not to sound like I was trying to give her a lecture. "Won't the people at the main office call your parents when they've caught you skipping again?"

"Hah, I've never been caught," replied Claudia. "Watch this." She whipped out her cell phone and began dialing a number and held the phone up to her ear. "Hello, this is Claudia Kishi's mother. Yes, I'm fine, how are you?"

I was shocked. Claudia sounded exactly her mother. Her acting seemed to benefit her off the stage too.

"Yes, I'm glad to hear that" she continued, after making some small talk. "Well, I wanted to tell you that Claudia isn't feeling very well today. I think she might have a touch of the flu. I'll have one of her friends come by and pick up her assignments. Thank you so much. Have a good day." She hung up the phone and laughed.

"Claudia, don't they call your house and leave a message to make sure that the student isn't doing exactly what you are doing?" I asked, even though I knew Claudia probably had an answer for that too.

"Yeah, but they only did that twice and I always get home in time to erase the message," she said. "They don't care at that office. They have more important things to do than track down Claudia Kishi, who in the big scheme of things isn't doing anything that bad."

She had a point. I still didn't think she should be skipping when her grades were suffering. Claudia didn't seem worried though. She stretched down on the grass, and began scrolling through her cell phone.

"So what are we going to do today," she asked, casually. "Do you want to go get some breakfast or do something else?"

"We?" I cried. "I'm going to try to make it to homeroom before they lock the door." I hadn't realized that I had been standing on the lawn for so long.

"Well, you're a little late for homeroom," she said, not looking up from her phone. "It's already eight minutes into first period." She showed me her cell phone and sure enough the time read 8:08.

There was no way we had been outside for so long. Claudia's clock had to be wrong. Still, my stomach sunk at the realization that it was late enough where I would have to not only get a tardy slip, but walk into first period late where Kristy Thomas would be sure to give me a smug look that would surely say "Look, you can't even get to school on time without me". I certainly didn't want to deal with that.

"But I can't skip," I protested to Claudia. "That's not what I do!" I sounded whiny and shrill and I knew it.

"Fine, do you what you want," shrugged Claudia, getting up from the grass. "But like you said you haven't missed school in two years and I doubt your grades are suffering, so I'm sure it won't matter. And I haven't seen you move towards that school yet, so I don't think you want to go inside either. But it's up to you." She started to walk away.

She was right. I didn't want to have to sit by myself at lunch because Kristy had already told her side of the story to Abby and the rest of the group. It wasn't as if I had any tests or anything important due today. I glanced quickly at the school, which now looked completely deserted and then back at the Claudia, who was looking at me for answer.

"Do you think you could impersonate Sharon?" I ask, walking towards her.

Claudia smiled.

"I'll have the lumberjack breakfast, with extra home fries and sausage and a strawberry milkshake, please," said Claudia to the waitress at Argos. The waitress looked at her strangely.

"A milkshake at eight thirty in the morning?" she asked, fluffing her long brown hair. "And shouldn't you be in school?" My heart skipped a beat. I was sure she was going to tell on us, although I wasn't sure why. She had a bored expression on her face, as if she couldn't care less about who we were, even though she looked familiar.

"Oh, come on Angelica, you know I always leave a nice tip," said Claudia, handing her the menu. "I'm one of the good kids." She smiled and leaned back in the booth. About five minutes after she had called and pretended to be her mother, she called the main office from my cell phone and did a pretty good imitation of Sharon. Claudia, as she always seems to be, then decided she was hungry and we headed over to Argos.

Angelica smirked back and turned to me. Her face darkened as soon as she saw my face, for no apparent reason.

"You're not Charlie Thomas' bitch sister, are you?" she asked, her voice taking a nasty tone. I suddenly realized that she was Charlie's old on and off again girlfriend, who Kristy had hated with an absolute passion.

"No!" I yelled, sounding very taken back. "Not at all!" Kristy and I don't look that much alike, not to the point where anyone would confuse us for the other. Maybe Angelica was as stupid as Kristy had made her out to be.

"Oh, sorry," she said, not sounding it at all. "I didn't mean to insult you like that. What do you want?"

"I'll have the French toast special with an orange juice instead of coffee" I replied a little more calmly. Angelica took our menus and walked towards the counter.

"Whoa, you got a little defensive when Angelica thought you were Kristy," quipped Claudia. "You never got that mad when we used to say you two looked alike back in the old days. Anything wrong?"

"No, I guess I was just sort of startled by the way she asked it. She looked like she was going to beat me with the menu." I was half lying, and I think Claudia sensed that. But luckily she dropped the subject.

"Yeah, a lot of the waitresses here don't like high school kids because they're rude and don't tip, if they even pay at all," she said quietly, taking out a nail file. "Sometimes they call the school on kids they know are skipping." I must have looked worried, because she quickly added "But they won't on us, the staff here knows that we're not going to cause any trouble."

I certainly hoped so.

The diner wasn't crowded at all, so we got our food relatively fast. As Claudia began dousing her food with maple syrup, I slowly cut up my French toast. I felt a little guilty, but only a little. I was actually a little excited. I had to admit, this was better than AP US History.

"So I was thinking of maybe taking the 10:00 train down to the city today" said Claudia, through bites of pancakes. "What do you think?"

I nearly spit out my orange juice. Skipping school to go to Argos was one thing, the city was something else entirely. Still, we were a lot less likely to be seen by someone we knew in New York City than if we stuck around Stoneybrook. Sharon usually doesn't get home until after six, so as long as I was on the train by four thirty, I could make it back in time to erase any messages there may be from the school on the answering machine.

"Sure," I said, swallowing my juice. "I haven't been to New York in forever."

"Awesome," replied Claudia, her mouth full of food. "Eat fast, because it's a long walk to the train station from here."

She wasn't kidding. The train station was on the opposite side of town. We ate our food in record speed and even if we had sprinted downtown, I don't think we would have made it to the station by ten, or even noon. Luckily, some friend of Claudia's who I didn't recognize and looked like he was about twenty five picked us up by Ted's Tools and gave us a ride most of the way. I was a little amazed. It seemed like everything always worked out for Claudia, despite the fact that she never really seemed to work for anything. I wished I was so happy go lucky.

We reached the city at about eleven. I always love pulling into Grand Central station and stepping out into the madness that is New York City. I grabbed by bag as the train shuddered to a stop.

"Now, you have to promise me that you are going to keep the trivia to a minimum" joked Claudia, as we moved down the aisle. "I don't need to know how many bricks were used to build Grand Central Station."

"290,000" I replied, without missing a beat. Claudia looked back in astonishment. "Just kidding." I really didn't have a clue. We both laughed as we step out onto 42nd Street.

"It feels sort of surreal being in New York City when I should be staring at the clock waiting for my physics lab to be over," I said, adjusting my book bag. I really wish I had time to drop it off at the house before leaving. It was heavy with textbooks and I felt little bit like a clueless tourist. "What do you want to do today?"

"Actually, I didn't want to tell you this before, but I actually am here on business." Claudia and I ducked under the scaffold and out of the way of the heavy traffic of people walking beside Grand Central terminal. "I'm looking for a place to live."

"A place to live?" I repeated, not sure I understood what she was saying. "Are you thinking of going to school down here?" I had actually thought of applying to someplace in the New York for college, but I don't think that's what Claudia meant.

"Well, something like that," answered Claudia. "My grades aren't really good enough to get into Julliard or NYU or anything like that, and my parents won't let me apply to a performing arts high school down here that would be sure to help get into those kinds of schools. So I think I want to move down here, maybe get a job, and dive right into the field." She turned with a dramatic flair, and looked at me straight in the eye. "I want to be a star. Or an artist. Or something where I don't have to worry about books or math or whether I graduate from high school. And I'm not going to get anywhere in Stoneybrook."

Oh no, I thought to myself. Claudia was a good actress and artist, but stardom wasn't something that happened overnight or to a lot of people. And there weren't too many options open to people who don't even have high school diplomas.

"Um, Claudia, don't you think you should think about this a little bit?" I ask, tentatively. As far as I know this was as spontaneous a decision as her decision to skip class or come to the city. She doesn't answer as we make our way through the crowd.

"Wanna go to Chinatown?" she asks, ignoring my question. "We could go shopping on Canal Street and check out cheap apartments on the lower east side."

"Claudia…" I began, but she was already jaywalking across the street. I ran after her and nearly got hit by a taxi in the process.

We did end up taking a subway to Canal Street, and shopped for about an hour. I bought a rather convincing Patricia Field knock off bag for only 15 dollars, while Claudia just sort of browsed around and bought nothing. That wasn't much like Claudia at all.

"Hey, are you alright?" I asked, after she unenthusiastically browsed through a rack of silk scarves with a sort of glazed look in her eyes. "Is there anywhere else you want to go?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered, apparently shaken out of her fog. "But let's get out of here. They have the same shit as the last time I was here." She breezed past the sketchy stand owner who had been watching us with an eagle eye, nearly knocking over a table of bangle bracelets on her way out.

"Where do you want to go?" I followed her as she made her way onto the street. I felt like I had been chasing after a silver and teal lame kite all afternoon. If I hadn't kept running after her, I had a feeling she might have left me behind.

Claudia shrugged and lit up another cigarette. She had practically gone through a whole pack the afternoon. She wasn't doing very well at keeping her promise to Mr. Cheney.

"I kind of want to go sketch something," she said, taking a long puff. "Want to go to the Cloisters?"

"Okay, but that's a little bit of hike," I answered. The Cloisters were on the other side of Manhattan, and it was already getting a little bit late. "We'd have to take a bus or a subway, but…"

"Nah, that's alright," said Claudia. "Let's just wander around a little."

We made our way up to SoHo and the Lower East Side and sort of hung around there a little. I had never really been to this part of the city, and it was sort of scary. I could understand why it was one of the cheapest places to live in Manhattan. Claudia didn't end up looking at any apartments like she had planned. I was sort of glad. I really didn't want to go in any of the apartments we saw. We didn't end up talking much, and Claudia eventually stopped to sketch people in Tompkins Square Park.

"I love New York," sighed Claudia, as she sketched a couple sitting on a bench.

"Me too," I said. "I thought about going to school here, but I don't know if I could live here."

"I'd move here in a heartbeat," mumbled Claudia. "Right now, if I could. But I'll wait until the play is over."

"It's really expensive," I said, sort of gently. I wasn't sure Claudia realized how expensive. Apartments, even a hole in the wall on the lower east side, cost something. "I don't know how you would afford it."

"Did you know Mimi left me and Janine $7000 each in her will when she died?" Claudia said suddenly. "I guess she had been saving money for each of us since before we were even born. It's supposed to be for college, but I could use to get settled down here."

"Yeah, but Claudia, that's maybe three months rent down here, and your options are pretty much only open to apartments that probably have more cockroaches than people." I didn't think Claudia how little $7000 would stretch when there was rent and other bills to pay.

"You sound like my parents," muttered Claudia, putting down her pencil. "You know I need to leave home. My relationship with my family is probably about as good as yours."

I didn't say anything. I understood without needing to pry, even though I knew Claudia leaving home would be about the dumbest thing she could do. Hopefully next week she would change her mind.

"Hey, it's four, we should probably go," said Claudia suddenly, picking up her things. She got up and ran out of the park, with me close behind.

We made it to the 4:30 train, somehow, seeing as we barely rushed and Claudia even stopped and got a hot dog along the way. She never seemed to worry about anything. I envied that in her. As we sat on the train, Claudia gabbed mostly about clothes, boys, and the play. The fact that she was contemplating running away didn't seem to bother her at all.

We reached Stoneybrook at about 5:30, which Claudia must have purposely planned, because we happened to bump into another, much older friend of Claudia that happened to getting off the train at the same time. He gave us a ride to SHS. Claudia had rehearsal at six, and didn't seem to mind taking the risk of getting caught by going back to school on the same day she had been skipping.

"I had fun today," I said, as Claudia's friend drove away. "I have to admit that was more fun than going to school."

"Haha, you'll loosen up yet, Mary Anne, there's hope for you," Claudia laughed, adjusting her messenger bag. "Hey, do you want to walk to school tomorrow?"

"Sure," I answered. "But only if we really go to school tomorrow. I don't think I should skip two days in a row."

"Sounds good," said Claudia. "I'll see you later. I better have my last cigarette before Mr. Cheney comes out here looking for me and catches me in the act."

I almost told her she that if she didn't smoke at all she wouldn't get caught, but decided against it. I had to get home anyway before Sharon did. I had promised that I would start dinner, and I had about fifteen minutes before she usually came home. I lightly jogged to Bradford Court, feeling a lot happier than I had that morning. Claudia was a little wild, but right now she was more of a friend, if at least a livelier one, than Kristy was. I also couldn't believe, that I, Miss Goody-Two shoes of the year, had skipped school. I felt kind of bad…but I sort of liked it.

As I got closer to my house, my happiness sort of dissipated when I noticed Sharon's Hybrid parked outside the house. Oh well. I would tell her that I had to work on a project with a friend and wasn't able to start dinner. We would just have to eat a little later tonight.

I never got a chance to use my excuse. Before I even got to the front door, Sharon flew out onto the front porch, looking irate to say the least.

"You are in big trouble, young lady," she shouted, hands on her hips.

I gulped. I guess I didn't have any of Claudia Kishi's luck.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"I'm sorry, Sharon," I stammered, my face turning red. "I didn't mean…"

"I can't believe you," cried Sharon, not seeming to care if the neighbors heard or not. "You're a sneaky little bitch, and that was a completely underhanded thing to do."

I drew in a deep breath. I was not going to cry.

"I can explain," I said, calmly, managing an even voice. "And it won't happen again, I promise."

"I hope not," replied Sharon. "I don't have any more wedding dresses for you to tell your father about."

"What?" I asked, confused. "I didn't tell dad about the wedding dress." I had no clue what she was talking about. I must have sounded genuine, because her frown lines softened a little, although they didn't disappear completely. That's what years of California tanning does to you.

"How did he find out, then?" she asked, thinking aloud. "He called me at work today and wanted to know if he wanted to do something special this weekend, just the two of us. He said he felt bad that he hasn't been spending enough time at home. I asked where this came from and then he explained about the wedding dress."

"Well I certainly didn't tell him," I said snappishly. Sharon didn't seem to care that she had just called me a sneaky little bitch without good cause. "Where did you hide the dress?"

"I don't know," she said. She looked thoughtful for a moment. "I hope I didn't hide it in his briefcase or anything." She laughed like it was no big deal. "What did you think I was talking about?"

"I, ummm, thought you were angry about not starting dinner early," I replied, blushing a little more. I suppose I should have felt relieved, but I was too angry with Sharon to do that.

"Oh honestly, Mary Anne, do you think I would get that mad over dinner?" Sharon shook her head and walked back into the house. "You are so timid, just like your father."

What a bitch.

"Well you got that mad over a stupid dress, so I don't really know what to expect, do I?" I yelled as I came in after Sharon. "And maybe you should pull your head out of your ass and not hide things where people are bound to find them, like say, the coat closet that everyone uses?"

Sharon whirled around, an incredulous look in her eye. I ran upstairs to my room before she had a chance to say anything. I wanted the last word tonight. I opened my copy of _Northanger Abbey _and tried to concentrate on reading. Downstairs, I could hear her clanking some pots and pans around for a few minutes, until I heard the front door open and slam and her car peel away down the street.

I went downstairs. There was no note saying where she had gone. Not like I expected her to leave one. That would be adult and responsible. There was a pot of water boiling on the stove. I cautiously lifted the lid and inside was what looked like shredded coupons and a high heel.

"Oh God," I cried. "She's trying to kill us."

I emptied the pot and threw the coupons and the ruined high heel into the garbage. Sharon forbade us to cook any steak, but she seemed to have no problem wearing leather pumps. I guess her principles fall short when it comes to fashion.

I didn't feel like cooking much of anything at the moment, so I rummaged through the freezer and found a frozen pizza. I was about to put it in the oven, but I decided to cover two thirds of it with pepperoni. My father and I shouldn't have to suffer protein deficiencies just because Sharon doesn't like to eat meat. I didn't think that was an unreasonable thing to do. I wasn't even sure if Sharon was even coming back. The phone rang as I was shutting the oven door.

"Hello," I said, picking up the phone.

"Mary Anne?" asked Kristy, suspiciously. "You certainly don't sound sick."

I groaned inwardly. Kristy was actually checking up on me. Did she think she was the attendance monitor or something?

"I'm fine," I said shortly. "What do you want?"

"I just want to say that you didn't have to fake sick to stay away from me," said Kristy. "You don't have to be afraid of me. I didn't tell anyone about what you said, not even Abby."

"I'm not afraid," I cried. Kristy was so frustrating. She didn't tell anyone what I said, because then she would have to explain her own actions. I didn't understand why she had to be right all the time. "I was on my way to school when I got…sidetracked."

"Sidetracked?" asked Kristy. "What do you mean?"

"I skipped school with Claudia Kishi," I blurted. "We went to the city."

I heard Kristy laugh on the other end.

"Oh yeah, I bet," snorted Kristy. "Do you expect me to believe that? You skipping with Claudia Kishi is about the most unlikely thing to ever happen. You're about as strait laced as they came."

"That's not true!" I replied, practically yelling. "And I did so skip. Ask Claudia!"

"Okay, next time Claudia and I get together for brunch and Sunday shopping, I'll ask her." Kristy was still laughing like it was the funniest thing ever. "So, how about we forget we ever fought and I'll pick you up for school tomorrow?"

"Fine" I snapped. I didn't feel like talking to her anymore. "Did I miss anything important?"

"Yeah, we had a pop quiz in English," said Kristy. "But I'm sure you could make it up. Maybe."

Great.

"Well, I have to go, I need to finish cooking dinner," I lied, seeing as dinner was cooking itself just fine.

"Okay, well, I'll see you tomorrow." Kristy hung up the phone, before I had a chance to say a proper goodbye. She always has to do things so abruptly.

Sharon didn't come home until ten thirty that night. I was in my bed already when she walked in the door. My dad was in the den and I could hear them talking, which eventually turned into shouting. I put on my headphones next to bed, and rolled over and tried to fall asleep. Eventually I did.

The next morning I was ready much earlier, but was surprised when Claudia rang my doorbell at 7:00.

"Hey," I said, opening the door. "It's awfully early."

"Yeah, well, I got caught skipping yesterday," grumbled Claudia. "The office ended up calling home, and because I had rehearsal, I didn't get home in time to erase the message. I managed to convince my mom that there was a good reason for me skipping, but she's still watching me like a hawk."

I looked out the window next to the front door. Mrs. Kishi's car was running outside.

"She's going to drop me off at school to make sure that I'd actually go and don't damage the good Kishi name," said Claudia, rolling her eyes. "Do you want a ride?"

"Well, Kristy was actually going to pick us up," I said. "She should be here in about 10 minutes or so. You didn't tell her that I skipped too, did you?"

"Oh, of course not. Not that she would believe that you would ever skip," chirped Claudia, laughing. "But I'll tell her I'm going to get a ride with Kristy so I don't have to here her lecture us all the way to school. She knows with Ms. Kristin Amanda Thomas driving us to school nothing bad could happen."

Apparently neither Claudia nor her mother had seen Kristy drive. But after some arguing, Claudia's mother assumedly consented and drove away without her daughter in tow.

"So what excuse did you give your mother for skipping school," I said, as she joined me in the house.

"Oh nothing, it was really stupid." Claudia dismissed the question with a wave of her hand. "But my mom has always been easy to fool. Remember how I used to hide all that junk food and those Nancy Drew's around my room?"

"Oh yeah," I said, laughing. "Do you still have that hollow book?"

"You bet," replied Claudia, smirking. "I still use it, except my candy's a little bit more expensive now than twinkies and ding-dong's, if you know what I mean. My mom is so dumb. Like I would ever have a book that thick."

I wanted to ask her more about this "candy", but Kristy pulled up and honked her horn obnoxiously before I had a chance to open my mouth.

We hurried down the steps, before Kristy could honk the horn again. Some people in my neighborhood were still sleeping. Through the window, I could see Abby looking amusingly through the window as she saw me and Claudia together. I wish I could have seen Kristy's face when she first saw us coming out of the house, but unfortunately when Claudia and I climbed into the backseat she had a look of complete composure on her face.

"This is your car?" asked Claudia, slamming the door behind her. "What a piece of junk! For a millionaire, Watson sure is cheap."

Abby and I stifled a laugh. Kristy, on the other hand, was practically foaming at the mouth.

"Don't say hello or anything," she grumbled. "And I paid for the car myself. Some people actually take pride in earning things themselves and working hard. But I don't see how you would understand that."

Claudia raised an eyebrow at me and pursed her lips, trying not to laugh.

"Soooo," started Claudia after a short pause. "I was talking to Caleb Danver yesterday at rehearsal, and I guess he's having this huge party at his house tonight. I guess his dad has to leave today at the last minute for a divorce hearing and won't be back until next Monday. He has this gorgeous place over on Green House Drive and he said to invite as many people as he wanted."

"I suppose this party isn't going to be just serving chips and dip?" Kristy asked in a snooty tone. "I don't think we want to go."

"Actually, that sounds sort of fun," I said. I really wasn't too big on the whole drinking thing, but part of me wanted to contradict anything Kristy said. "I'm not doing anything this weekend. I'll go."

"Hellz yeah," cried Abby, spinning around. "I'll be there. I love me some Caleb Danver. Or Lucas Danver, for that matter. I had the biggest crush on Lucas when I was a freshman. Now I've seen the errors of my ways and moved onto Caleb. Although I wouldn't say no to either of them." She pretended to make out with an imaginary person. Kristy looked at her with disgust.

"I can't believe you two want to go to a party like that," sniffed Kristy, swerving around a sharp turn. I really think that I'm going to walk to school when it starts to snow. "Count me out."

"Whatever," said Claudia nonchalantly. "It's your choice. But you're missing a great party."

Kristy didn't say anything else the rest of the drive to school, but I heard her grumble something under her breath that made Abby turn around and roll her eyes. She parked her car and walked ahead of us, leaving the rest of us in the parking lot.

"She can be so high and mighty sometimes," laughed Abby. She started chasing after Kristy down the parking lot. "Hey baby, come back, don't act like that. Those other girls meant nothing. I still love ya." This only made Kristy walk even faster.

Claudia reached inside her purse and took out a cigarette, watching the scene with amusement.

"Abby's nuts, but Kristy almost makes her look normal," she said, inhaling slowly, still leaning against Kristy's car. "Ugh, I feel so stupid being at school so early. It's not even seven thirty yet."

"Well, you know Kristy and punctuality," I said. "She's never late for anything."

"Yeah," said Claudia, sort of breathily. "If she would just get the pole out of her ass, she wouldn't be half bad. I bet a little partying and some rum would lighten her up."

"Heh, I doubt it," I snickered. I shifted uncomfortably and watch other people meander into the building. On most days I usually go to homeroom and study until first period, but I didn't feel inclined to do so today. Maybe some of Claudia's nonconformity was rubbing off on me.

"So, you think you're gonna come tonight?" said Claudia, smirking slightly. "Awesome." She gave me a kind of strange look and then licked her thumb and slicked it over each of my eyebrows.

"Ya, know, you should let me give you a makeover this afternoon. You have beautiful features," she said, looking at me the same way I saw her looking at unfinished pieces of art in the past. It made me feel strange. "Come over to my house at about five today."

"Okay," I stammered a little nervously. "You're not going to give a rainbow colored mohawk and pierce my nipples or anything like that, are you?"

Claudia laughed genuinely.

"Haha, only if you want me to," she giggled. "I was thinking of something a little more tame, but if you want to look like a burnout, that's up to you. You want a light?"

"No thanks", I said. Shifting a little. I had never even smoked a puff of a cigarette before. "Maybe I could have a… drag of yours, though?" I hoped I had used the word drag right.

"Sure thing," smiled Claudia, the same strange look coming over her face.

She handed me her cigarette. I held it in the same way I had seen celebrities in the movies hold them, notably Holly Golightly in _Breakfast at Tiffany's_. I took my first puff. It tasted like breathing in campfire the few times I went to Shadow Lake with Kristy's family. I tried not to show that I was a complete amateur, but I couldn't but help but cough.

"I feel like you should have a long cigarette holder or something, like in those old films" she said, trying not to laugh, eventually catching herself. "I feel horrible, like I'm corrupting you or something."

"I'm not that innocent" I snapped. I didn't mean for it to come out so unkind sounding, even though I seriously meant it, but I still felt bad. Something about being innocent hit a nerve with me.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "I didn't mean to mean for that to come out so nasty."

"Don't worry about it," Claudia said. "I know what you mean. Believe me, my parents are on my case just as much as your parents or Kristy or anybody else is." Her face hardened a little bit as I handed her the cigarette and she took a particularly long puff.

"We'd be good for each other," I blurted, not realizing how moronic that sounded. "I mean, I think we should hang out a lot more. I miss being such good friends as we were before high school."

"I do too," she said, not looking in my direction. I wonder if she was thinking about Stacey. She was the only best friend she ever had, as far as I know. "We need to hang out a lot. I miss you. But we should get to homeroom before the bell rings."

She was right. I didn't need to miss two days in a row. I rushed off to homeroom, wondering about what was going to happen tonight. The rest of the morning was pretty much the same as usual, as was the rest of the day. I talked to my English teacher, and she told me I would be able to make up the pop quiz, as long as I stayed after school today to make it up with her. Kristy waited with me with me when I asked her, and I swear I saw a look of disappointment on her face when I saw Mrs. O' Shea told me I could, as if she would have gotten pleasure out of me failing me or something. When I went to my locker, Kristy was there waiting for me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, suspiciously, spinning the combination to my lock nonchalantly. "I figured you'd be at lunch waiting for me and the others."

"I just wanted to make sure you didn't skip lunch with Claudia," she said, looking smug. "Just because you didn't get caught cutting school yesterday doesn't mean it won't ever happen."

"I don't plan on skipping again," I mumbled, as I put away my books and grabbed my lunch. "Why do you care so much? It's not as if it goes on your permanent record or anything."

Kristy looked slightly taken back for a second, but quickly regained her haughty expression.

"Well, bad habits always start off as one time things before they escalate into much bigger things," said Kristy, nonchalantly. "And the junior year is the most important year. But you already knew that. I'll see you later." She turned and bounced down the hallway as if she had told me a great or happy piece of news.

"Bitch," I muttered, under my breath. I was about to shut my door, but I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror hanging on my locker door. My hair was the same way it had been since I was eighth grade, maybe a little bit longer. My clothes, at least in style, hadn't changed much. I was wearing a pair of ironed jeans with a white button up, Ralph Lauren brown cardigan and pink ballet flats. I was still the same preppy, conservative, understated Mary-Anne. As much as I thought Claudia's outfits were hideous, they at least stood out and in some ways looked amazing. I twirled a finger through my hair and thought about growing it out or dying it at least.

"Hey" said Logan, coming from behind.

"Hey," I cried, blushing a little. I hoped Logan hadn't seen me staring at myself in the mirror like a complete space-cadet.

"You looked like you about a million miles away or something," he said, casually tossing a Nalgene from one hand to the next like a football. Over the past few years, Logan's accent had smoothed out quite a bit, to the point where you could only detect a drawl on a few words. I kind of missed the way he used to speak.

"Oh, errrr, I was just getting ready to go to lunch," I stammered, hoping I wasn't getting redder. "What's up?"

"I was just wondering if you had the French homework from yesterday," he asked. "I had a doctor's appointment yesterday and had to miss."

"No, sorry, I was absent yesterday too," I said, grabbing my lunch from my locker. I wondered if Logan really had an appointment or if his absence was for the same reason as mine.

"Ahhh, that's okay," he said, smiling. Two dimples appeared in his cheeks. "Thanks anyway." He turned to go. "See you later."

"Hey, are you going to Caleb Danver's party tonight?" I blurted out suddenly.

"Yeah," he replied, smiling perplexedly. "Why, are you going?"

"Ummm, I was thinking about it," I said. "It might be a good time." The words sounded so stupid coming out of my mouth.

"You should," he responded, still smiling. "I guess I _will_ see later."

I think I muttered something in response, but I wasn't sure how intelligible it was. Even though Logan and I were supposedly friends, it always seemed awkward between us. At least for me anyway. I shut my locker and saw Claudia walking my way with some seniors that I did not recognize.

"Hey, want to come to McDonalds for lunch?" said Claudia, already pulling out her pack of cigarettes.

"Nah, that's okay," I said. I didn't really want to go anyway, but especially not after Kristy's comment. "But I'll see you later."

"Yeah, definitely, meet me at my house at about six," she said. "Oh, and bring Abby along if you want to. Just not Kristy" She rolled her eyes and smiled. "Do you want anything for tonight?"

"Uhhh, I don't think so," I said, not sure what she was talking about. Then I got it. "Wait, do you mean alcohol?"

Claudia and her friends laughed. I blushed, and this time I was sure it was noticeable.

"Yeah, that's what I mean," she said. "Do you want to just go halfsies with me and whatever I get?

"Umm, sure," I replied. "Thanks."

"No problem," she said. "See you later. Hope you like tequila." She and her friends continued down the hall and I could hear some of them snickering.

I hope I knew what I was doing.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Later that day, Kristy dropped Abby and I off at my house. I was surprised she wasn't going to make us walk home, seeing as we were going to go to party with alcohol later that evening. But she was surprisingly quiet the rode home, and didn't say a word as we got out the door.

"Bye Kristy," yelled Abby from my front porch. Kristy barely waved as she sped off, her tires squealing, nearly hitting Mrs. Mancuiso as she walked her three dogs. "Yeah, sorry about someone lighting the fuse on your tampon, I'd be upset about that too."

We both laughed as I opened the door, especially when I saw the look on Mrs. Mancuiso's face after Abby just screamed "tampon" down the street. Tigger walked over to us and mewed as we collapsed onto the couch.

"Hey, fat cat" fussed Abby in a high pitched voice. She bent over and picked him up. "What a good little fat kitty."

"He's not fat," I said, giggling. "He's pleasantly plump."

"Well, he must be pretty damn pleasant then," she said, laughing. She cradled him in her arms like a baby, which he did not seem to like at all. "So how was your day in the city…I mean, how was your day sick in bed?" She smiled knowingly at me.

"It was fun," I replied, not surprised at all that Kristy had told her. "It was nice to hang out with Claudia again. I haven't done in that awhile."

"Yeah, me neither," said Abby, putting an unhappy Tigger on the floor, who then ran and hid under the couch. "Sometimes I wish that when we all went our separate ways in the beginning of high school that I had stuck more with Claudia or Stacey or someone else besides Kristy. I mean, we were neighbors and both into the same things, so it seemed natural, but she gets more and more unbearable everyday."

"Tell me about it," I muttered. "I guess we didn't realize that we would get divided up so much, you know? I mean, Claudia's always been easy to talk to, but I couldn't imagine calling Stacey or Jessi just to hang out and , and fuck, I don't even see Mal…"

"Did you just say fuck?" laughed Abby. "I don't think I've ever heard you use that word before!"

"Well, get used to it," I cried. "Between Kristy and Sharon and whole lot of other things, I have good cause to say it." I kicked off my shoes and stretched out on the recliner.

"Are you going to drink tonight?" asked Abby, studying me hard. "I might, but I don't know."

"I might too," I said. "I mean, it might be fun, right?"

Abby shrugged.

"It's not that fun," she said. "Anna and I went to one of her friend's house in the Berkshires this past summer and got drunk. I had four shots of vodka and two malibu and pineapples and a glass of some really bad wine. I was fine, but Anna got sick off of like three beers or something." She giggled. "It was alright, but I could do with or without it, you know?"

"Yeah," I said, quietly. The only thing I ever had to drink was a glass of champagne last New Year's and one at a wedding of some relative of Sharon's. I hadn't really enjoyed the taste, though.

"I'm hungry," said Abby, patting her stomach. "Let's get something to eat."

We spent the rest of the afternoon making penne ala "Abby", which was basically a macaroni and cheese type dish with hot-dog bits mixed in, and watching bad talk shows.

"Hey, do you want to see something absolutely hideous?" I asked during a commercial for Pizza Express. "I have to show you Sharon's wedding dress."

I brought her into the dining room and opened the bottom of the hutch, where Sharon had absent-mindedly stored the dress. I guess she still had her head up her ass, despite our argument yesterday.

"Ooooo, that is so freakin' fugly," laughed Abby. "I have to try it on."

Abby slipped it on over her jeans, and twirled around the dining room, singing "Where have all the Flowers Gone" and making ridiculous faces. It was so funny I took my digital camera out and started snapping pictures. Everything was fine until Abby stepped on the bottom of the sweep train and ripped the bottom seam.

"Oh, shit," cried Abby. "I'm so sorry!" She took off the dress and held up the ripped piece.

"It's okay," I said. It was a clean rip and easily repairable. "I can hide it in my room and fix it sometime tomorrow. I doubt she'll even notice it's missing, that is if she even remembers where she put it."

"Okay," said Abby. "Let me know if you need any help. I could even do it if you wanted to."

"Uh, that's alright, it won't take long to fix." I had seen Abby's sewing project for Home Ec, and knew she would probably be more of a hindrance than a help. "Let's go upstairs and see if I can find anything to wear tonight."

We went upstairs and hid the dress in an empty box that once held ice-skates in the back of my closet. I then began sifting through the clothes in my closet looking for anything that might do. After about a half an hour, I decided on a pair of dark skinny jeans that I had never worn before, a pair of black sabrina heels, and a longish black sweater.

"Do you think this is okay?" I asked Abby, who seemed much more interested in looking things up on my computer than in picking out an outfit.

"Yeah, that looks nice," she said, barely looking away from the screen. "I don't see why you're so worried about it. I'm not changing, and most people will probably be dressed down anyway." Abby was wearing a pair of faded jeans, flip-flops, and a t-shirt that said "without me, it's just aweso".

She was right, I looked ridiculously over dressed. I traded the heels for flats and the sweater for a purple v-neck tee. It was almost six o'clock, so we went downstairs and cleaned up our food, and I left a note for Sharon and dad telling them I was going to Claudia's and then spending the night at Abby's. I didn't mention the Danver's party. Surprisingly, I only felt a little guilty and nervous about lying. We walked over to Claudia's house, where Mrs. Kishi greeted us at the door.

"Hello girls, come on in," she said cheerily. I think she was glad that we were hanging out with Claudia. Maybe she thought of us as good influences. "How are you, Mary Anne? I'm so glad you came over. It's been a long time."

"Um, thank you," I replied. "It's nice to see you too." Mrs. Kishi had always been nice, but today she seemed much warmer than she had ever been.

"Would you like anything to drink" she asked, going to fridge.

"No, thank you," I said. "Is Claudia upstairs?"

"Of course," she answered, smiling. "She's in her room with some…friends." She said the word friends as if it gave her a bad taste in her mouth. "Go right on up. You're always welcome here, so stop by anytime."

"Thanks" I said, as we headed up the stairs. Mrs. Kishi sure seemed rather friendly to me. I wasn't the only one that noticed.

"Gee, I guess I'm chopped liver," whispered Abby to me. "She seemed happy to see you, though."

"I used to come here all the time when I was younger," I whispered back. "Maybe she missed me."

Claudia's door was open, so we let ourselves in. It was a little neater than it used to be; if only because Mimi's old room had been converted into an art studio and she stored most of her art supplies there. The floor was strewn with clothes and shoes and other personal items. Claudia's feet were sticking out from underneath her bed. I almost had a flashback to the days of the BSC, but instead of Kristy there was a boy wearing combat boots stretched out in her director's chair and a short girl with maroon highlights sitting where Stacey used to sit on the bed.

"Hey," said Claudia, popping out from underneath the bed, her hair covering her face. She brushed it back with a flick of her hand. "Are my parents still here?"

"Yeah, at least your mom is," I answered. "She seemed like she was in a good mood."

Claudia rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, she's in a good mood, alright," she said. "I'll be in a good one when she leaves. She's supposed to meet my father for dinner and for a nine o'clock movie in Stamford tonight."

From the first floor of the house we heard a door open and close. Claudia walked over to her window and watched her mother drive away.

"Good, she's gone," said Claudia, flopping down on the bed. "You guys can come in and sit down if you want. You don't have to stand in the doorway.

Abby plopped down on the floor and I sat down next to her.

"You know Polly and Ice-box, right?" she asked. "This is Mary Anne and Abby."

I sort of knew them. Polly used to go to Stoneybrook Day School, and I think Ice-box was in some stupid "gang" that Logan joined briefly back in middle school. But other than that I didn't know much about them.

"Hey," said Abby. "What's up?"

They muttered something in response, but neither seemed that interested in our company.

"You guys want something to drink?" said Polly, in an attempt to be friendly. It came out sounding forced, but at least she tried.

"Well Mrs. Kishi offered us-well Mary Anne at least-something to drink, but I don't think it was the same stuff, so sure." Abby seemed to have quickly decided that she was drinking.

"How about you, Mary Anne?" asked Claudia, moving back under her bed. She pulled out from under the mess a banged up looking mini-fridge. She opened it and pulled out a full large bottle of Jose Cuervo and a half of lime. She never ceases to amaze me. "You want a shot?"

"Okay," I said. I liked limes. How horrible could it taste?

"Great," answered Claudia. She pulled out five shot glasses from a plastic bag under her bed and poured the tequila into each of them. She then pulled out a container of salt.

"What's that for?" I whispered to Abby. She shrugged.

"Here, give me your hands," said Claudia, and poured about a pinch of salt on the pad of our hands between the thumb and index finger. "So what you do is, you lick the salt, down the shot, and suck on the lime. She gave us each a wedge of lime. "You ready?"

We both nodded. In unison we licked the salt and then each swallowed the shot. Or at least attempted. I felt like I was going to puke as the most horrible, acrid tasting liquid burned the inside of my throat and mouth. I quickly swallowed and shoved the lime in my mouth and concentrated on not throwing up. It took me a minute to realize that everyone else in the room was laughing at me.

"Are you okay?" laughed Claudia, almost to the point of tears. "You had the funniest look on your face. I think you actually turned green."

"I'm okay," I said weakly, my face still twitching a little. "That was disgusting."

"Nah, that's so bad," spoke up Ice-box, who hadn't even needed a chaser. "Let me show you a tequila suicide." He then proceeded to snort the salt on his hand, down a shot, and squeeze some lime juice into his eye.

Polly and Claudia burst into laughter, while Abby looked on, amused. I must have look horrified, because Ice-Box looked at me with his now bloodshot eyes and laughed.

"You'll be doing those by the end of the night," he smirked. "You just keep doing some of the normal ones, and you'll be too drunk to know the difference."

"I don't think so" I said, but I couldn't help but giggle. "I think I've had enough tequila."

"You should drink it with orange juice, it's not so bad that way," said Polly, smiling. "Here, I'll get us a glass. Anybody else want one?"

"Nah, I'm okay" replied Abby. "I'm fine doing shots. Oh, do you guys want any money for the alcohol?"

"Don't worry about it," said Claudia. "You can get it next time. Do you mind if I play with your hair?"

"Not at all," said Abby, pouring herself another shot. "Just don't do anything too crazy."

The tequila and orange juice didn't taste too bad, surprisingly. I somehow managed to drink two large glasses in the three hours we spent hanging out at Claudia's house. I even let Claudia change my outfit, despite urges otherwise from Abby and Polly. The outfit she picked out wasn't too bad, at least to someone a little tipsy off tequila. It consisted of purple knee-high boots and a sparkly black open back halter top and peacock feather earrings. By nine o'clock I was feeling kind of wobbly and warm, and I kept laughing at everything. Claudia was trying to unwrap a Starburst wrapper with her tongue when my cell-phone rang. It was my dad.

"Hello," I said, trying to cover my laughter. I tried to sound as sober as possible. "What's going on, dad?"

"I just wanted to make sure everything was okay," he answered. I could hear the fax machine in the background. "Where are you now?"

"I'm at Claudia's," I said, holding in a burp. "With Abby and two of Claudia's friends. We're……watching a movie."

"That sounds like fun," he said. "Where's Kristy tonight?"

"Ah, I don't know," I replied, giggling at Polly who had just knocked over her shot glass onto her pants and was now cursing. "Probably doing homework or something laaaame."

"Well, I won't keep you," he said. I could hear the fax machine beeping troublingly in the background. My father swore at it under his breath. "I just wanted to make sure you got to Claudia's all right. Call me when you leave to go to Abby's or if you need a ride."

"Yup," I answered. "Well, have a good night."

"You too," he said. "Good-bye."

I shut my phone. Claudia was staring at me and giggling.

"Was that your father?" she asked, munching on a piece of candy. "You sounded so drunk."

"I did?" I asked, horrified. "Do you think he noticed?"

"Probably not," she said. "Why, do you think he did?"

"No, he sounded really distracted actually," I answered. I finally let out the burp I had held in before. It was incredibly loud. Everyone burst into laughter, including me.

"Nice one," said Ice-box. "Well, we better get going, seeing as we have to walk because Polly got her car taken away."

"It's not my fault you left an empty condom wrapper in the back seat," cried Polly. "My dad looked like he was going to kill me. I'm lucky all I got was grounded for two weeks and my car taken away for a month."

"Oh, wait, do you two guys go out?" I asked in complete earnest. Throughout the evening they had acted like friends, not a couple that was sexually active.

They exchanged sideways glances and there was a bit of an awkward pause.

"Um no, we're just good friends," said Polly, twisting a piece of her hair.

"Oh, whoops," I replied. Normally I would have felt embarrassment at her response, but I was feeling too warm inside to care at all. "Well, let's go!"

"Okay," said Claudia. "Here, let me clean up this alcohol stuff and then we can go. I'll just dump it in somebody elses garbage can along the way." She picked up the empty bottle of tequila and put it in an empty plastic bag.

"Oh wows, we drunk that whole fucking thing?" asked Abby, slurring every syllable. She was lying on the ground drawing smiley faces on her toes with a Sharpie of Claudia's. "Thaz a lot of booze." She started singing that old song "Tequila", but only got about a few words into before she began laughing uncontrollably.

"Yeah, you had about seven shots yourself, remember?" laughed Claudia. She seemed pretty tipsy herself, although not as bad as Abby. "Get up, it's time to go."

With some prodding we eventually got Abby on her feet and started walking to the party. Abby began singing again, except this time at the top of her lungs.

"Shut up," said Claudia, trying to shush her. "You're going to get me in trouble with the neighbors. If they see any one of us looking at all drunk, you know they'll call my parents."

Although Abby did quiet down, I certainly hoped nobody was looking out their window at us, because Abby and Polly kept tripping over everything and walking like, well, drunk people. Claudia and I walked next to each other behind them, both smiling and talking. It was a nice cool night, which felt good against my flushed skin. Claudia left the empty bottle in the Goldman's recycle bin, which I thought was hilarious. The idea of Mr. and Mrs. Goldman, each about 85, getting drunk off a bottle of tequila nearly made me fall on the sidewalk laughing. Everything seemed to be going great, until about halfway down Kimball street, Abby spun around with one hand clutched to her stomach.

"Oh man," she moaned. "I don't feel so good." She then promptly turned and barfed in front of a house belonging to someone I didn't know.

"Oh, Abby," I groaned. "Look, it's okay, we'll get you home." I patted her back and tried to hold her hair while she retched over the sidewalk.

I looked at Claudia, who kind of scrunched her face up in disgust and yet continued to smile. She pulled out her package of cigarettes and handed one to Polly and Ice-box, who looked impatient to go.

"Nooo, I'm okay," said Abby pretty feebly, wiping her mouth and standing up straight. "I'm okay now, I just needed to get it out of me. I feel okay now."

"I still think you should probably go home," I said, feeling concerned. My buzz was starting to wear off a little and I wasn't so warm anymore.

"No, we're almost there," she replied, trying not to look green. "I feel fine, I promise. And I won't drink anymore once I'm there and I'll have some water right away."

"Okay," I said, still a little unsure. "Well, let's keep going."

We kept walking. Abby threw up once more along the way, although she said that was the last of it. We arrived at the Danver's about ten minutes later. His house was huge, even bigger than Kristy's. It seemed almost like all of SHS was there, at least most of the juniors and seniors. I could see Grace Blume and Sabrina Bouvier chatting on the front porch with some senior boys and a lot of people were milling in and out. We made our way inside. The whole first floor seemed crowded with people.

"I'm gonna go find Caleb and say hello," said Claudia, turning to me. "Want to come with me?"

"Sure," I said. I looked behind to see if Abby was still there. She had started a conversation with Rick Chow by the door, who had seemed pretty drunk himself. She seemed fine, so I figured it was okay to leave her. We began to make our way through the crowd. Along the way Claudia passed an open cooler full of cans of keystone beer and grabbed us each one. I cracked it open and took a sip. It wasn't as strong as the tequila, but it didn't taste that great either. Claudia must have seen my face.

"It's better if you chug it," she yelled, seeing as the music was too loud to hear anything below a shout. She swallowed hers in what seemed like one gulp, and I did the same. My stomach churned and for a moment I thought I was going to throw up, but I quickly subdued my gag reflex. I followed Claudia to the back deck, where I saw Caleb Danver talking to Logan and Alan Gray.

"Hey guys," she said, giving Caleb a hug. She then turned and gave Alan a hug too. I was jealous at how relaxed she seemed around her ex-boyfriend. I smiled a little uneasily at Logan, who did the same. "What's going on?"

"Not much," replied Caleb. "We were just going to do a round of shots. You two want one?"

"Sure," said Claudia. Everyone looked at me for answer.

"Why the hell not?" I said, making an attempt to be cool. Alan Gray burst into laughter at my answer.

"Little Mary Anne Spier drinking?" he cried. "That's crazy!"

Caleb poured a shot for everyone out of a Svedka bottle, which I knew was vodka because Sharon kept one in the refrigerator. He only had three shot glasses, so the boys pounded down theirs first and then poured one for me and Claudia. Claudia swallowed hers like a pro, but as soon as the liquid hit the back of my throat, I knew I was in trouble. I slammed the shot glass down on the counter and ran down the deck stairs into the Danver's backyard. I heard someone utter "oh shit" and follow after me, but I didn't pay attention. As soon as my feet hit the ground I started puking in the Danver's hydrangea bushes. I held my head and squeezed back a few tears. Even though I was finished I didn't want to get up and go back to the party. I had just thrown up in the backyard of someone I barely knew while he and my ex-boyfriend watched and laughed.

So much for being cool.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"Do you need a glass of water or something?" asked a voice from behind me.

I turned around and saw Alan Gray standing behind me, he being the last person on earth I wanted to see at that moment. I stood up and wiped my hand with my mouth.

"I think so," I said. "I don't feel so bad now, though." I knew now what Abby meant before. I did feel a lot better after throwing up. I wished it had done something for my pride.

"I'm so embarrassed," I admitted. I looked up to the deck and saw Claudia leaning over the edge giving me a sympathetic smile. She gave a quick wave before turning back to talk to the boys. She seemed deeply engrossed in conversation with Caleb Danver.

"Don't be," replied Alan. "It happens to everyone. Cokie Mason puked in the dishwasher about five minutes before you got here. Caleb was not too happy about that. At least you had the decency to go outside. And hey, you keep practicing and someday you'll be able to barf on cue like me."

I laughed in spite of myself. We started up the deck stairs.

"Besides, you look very lovely tonight," he said, slipping an arm around my shoulder. It was vaguely creepy and un-Alanlike.

"Um, thanks," I answered. "At least I didn't get any puke on Claudia's boots."

He smiled as we re-joined Claudia, Caleb and Logan on the back deck, and then went inside to get me a glass of water.

"Feel better?" asked Claudia, giggling. "I've never seen you run so fast in my life!"

"Yeah, I never knew you had that in you," said Logan. "I guess all it takes is some stale vodka."

"I'm just glad you made it off the porch," said Caleb. He cast a nasty glance in the direction of Cokie Mason, who was making out with some senior boy on a porch swing on the other side of the deck.

"Sorry about that," I said sheepishly. "I guess I'm not used to vodka."

"Don't worry about it," replied Caleb. "It happens to everyone." He handed me a Keystone. "That'll help get the vodka taste out of your mouth."

"Thanks," I said, taking it. "But I think I should wait awhile before I have anything else to drink."

Alan brought me the water, and I could feel the beer and the shot kicking in. The water at least helped get the throw up taste out of my mouth. The five of us spent the next half hour talking about school and other random topics. I actually did a bulk of the talking, thanks to the alcohol flowing through my system. I managed to drink two Keystone's throughout the course of the conversation. The more I drank, the better they tasted.

"Wow, Mary Anne," remarked Alan. "Give you a few drinks and you don't shut up."

"I talk all the time," I said, trying to balance in Claudia's boots. If I had known I was going to get so drunk, I probably would have stuck to flats. I pushed Alan jokingly. I thought I saw Logan scowl, but nothing was too lucid at that moment. "I just never want to talk to you."

Everyone laughed, including Alan, who playfully grabbed me around the shoulder. Claudia raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"Maybe we should go look for Abby," she said, tugging towards the interior of the house. "Let's go inside."

I had forgotten about Abby. I waved goodbye to the boys and stumbled inside the house. Claudia pulled me into the laundry room and shut the door.

"Okay, are you flirting with Alan Gray on purpose, or are you just that drunk?" she asked seriously, but holding onto me for balance. She had drunk two more shots of vodka while we were on the back porch, and it was beginning to show.

"I'm not flirting with Alan Gray," I practically screamed. "Ugh, are you kidding me? I'm just having a great time!" I burst into laughter and toppled into Claudia's arms.

"I just want to make sure you're okay," she said, her voice and face deadly humorless. She straightened me out and looked me square in the eye. "I wouldn't want to think that you were hitting on my ex-boyfriend. Because you know I would have to kick your ass."

"Claudia, no, I would never," I started, tears rushing to my eyes. "There's no way.."

Claudia burst into laughter and hit me in the arm.

"I was just joking," she said, between laughs. "I don't care what you do with Alan. I just wanted to make sure you knew you were flirting with him hardcore." She scooped me up, still laughing, and kicked open the laundry door. "You should have seen your face!"

We both burst into the middle of the mud room and collapsed on the floor, laughing to the point of tears. A couple of people nudged and some smiled, while some shook their heads. Neither of us seemed to care.

"C'mon, let's go look for Abby," she said, pulling me up off the floor.

We pushed our way through the ever-thickening and dizzying crowd, my head spinning between the noise and the sheer volume of people. Some people were playing what looked like beer pong on the Danver's dining room table, but most were just hanging out, drinking and talking to people. In the corner, I saw two boys holding Cary Retlin as he did a keg stand for about two full minutes. When he was finally lifted down, he let out the hugest belch.

"I am the keg king!" he roared at the top of his lungs, before letting out another huge burp. His friends laughed and began to lift another person onto the king. I caught sight of their long black curly hair and suddenly knew who it was.

"Oh, shit, Abby" shouted Claudia, when she saw who was being hoisted. "She is going to get so sick."

We watched as Abby stayed on top of the keg for almost as long as Cary Retlin. After they let her back down, she swayed for a moment, and then let out an equally loud belch.

"I am the keg queen!" she shouted, while Cary Retlin rushed over to and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. She burst into laughter and staggered over to us.

"Did you guys see that!" she yelled, still laughing. "I was up there for like five minutes!"

"I thought you said you weren't going to drink anymore," I said, slurring a little. I was hardly one to talk. "You're gonna get sick, let me get you some water."

I left Abby with Claudia as I stumbled back to the kitchen. Someone was busy making out over the sink, so I grabbed a cup and headed to the bathroom. I turned the faucet on and started filling it with water, when I heard someone come up from behind me.

"Hey, Mary Anne," said Alan Gray, walking up to me. He had a beer in his hand and had a bit of a glazed look on his face. "What's up?"

"Ummm…just getting some water for Abby," I replied uneasily. I quickly shut the water off and tried to squeeze past him, but he took up most of the width of the tiny bathroom. "Can I get by?"

"Yeah, I just wanted to tell you it was nice talking to you," he practically whispered, leaning in so close I could feel his breath on my neck. Goosebumps crawled up my arm. "You look really nice tonight." He gently grabbed my arm and started to kiss my cheek and started to back me into the bathroom wall.

"Ugh, get off of me!" I yelled, shoving him into the open toilet and throwing the cup of water in his face. Alan looked stunned. I stormed out of the bathroom and began looking for Claudia and Abby. I heard Alan calling after me, but I didn't turn back. I pushed my way angrily threw the throng of people. I knocked into one girl and spilled her beer, but I didn't care and ignored the nasty glares from her and friends. I saw Claudia, Abby and Polly talking in a corner.

"Why are you wet?" asked Abby, as I stormed up to them.

"Alan Gray," I replied. "He tried to make a move on me, so I threw a cup of water in his face and pushed him into a toilet."

The three girls burst into giggles. Up until that point I hadn't seen the humor, and I couldn't help but crack a smile, which I quickly subdued.

"I told you he was flirting with you," said Claudia. "I guess he thought you were flirting back."

"Well, he thought wrong," I cried. "He was so sleazy about it too. He cornered me in a bathroom."

"Ew," said Polly, looking over my shoulder. "He's coming over here."

I saw Alan Gray pushing his way over, a look of apology on his face.

"Look, Mary Anne, I'm really sorry…" he started, but Abby cut him off.

"Alan, nobody wants to make out with you, especially in a bathroom," she laughed in his face. "Leave Mary Anne alone. Or do every girl a favor and keep your dick in your pants, you fugly retard." It was a little harsh, even given the circumstance. Alan's face fell considerably.

"Whatever," he said, and sulked into the next room, and I actually felt bad for him.

"Abby, that was pretty nasty," said Claudia, smiling in shock. "Yeah, Alan can be a big shithead, but I don't know if he deserved that."

"I don't care," said Abby, leaning back in her chair. "I feel sooo good right now."

"I think we better leave soon, though" said Polly, looking around nervously. "The cops usually break these parties up before long, especially since this one probably won't break up on its own any time soon."

"Yeah," replied Claudia. "I think Caleb wanted people to start clearing out. A lot more showed up than he expected. I'm going to go say good-bye and then we can go."

"I don't want to go," whined Abby. "It's so early."

"What time is it anyway?" I asked Polly, who shrugged. I took my cell-phone out of my pocket, which read 12:30. It also said I had four missed calls and two voicemails. My stomach sunk when I saw who they were from.

"Hey guys, I'm going to go call my dad, I'll meet you outside," I told them. Polly nodded as I walked away. I coule hear Abby trying to convince Polly to stay an extra half an hour.

I went out to the front porch, where Stacey and Sheila McGregor were listening to a very drunk Dori Wallingford brag about her new car, and looking kind of bored at the same time. Stacey look surprised to see me there. She gave a half wave and whispered something to Sheila. Normally I would have felt embarrassed, but it didn't seem like she was saying anything too bad. I half waved back and hopped off the porch, trying to distance myself from the noise and the party. I walked down to the mailbox and dialed my dad's number. He picked up on the second ring.

"Mary Anne Spier, I asked you to call me when you got to Abby's" he said sternly. "Where are you now?"

"I'm at Abby's," I lied. "We just got here a little while ago."

"Who drove you?" he asked. "And why are you getting there so late?"

"We walked," I replied. "We were just having so much fun at Claudia's that we didn't want to leave."

"You walked?" he cried, sounding upset. "I don't want you walking across town in the middle of the night! Mary Anne, that is dangerous! You should have called me for a ride."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I said in earnest. "It won't happen again. I promise. We're here now and everything and everyone is safe."

"I tried calling Abby's house but no one picked up," he said. I was thankful Abby's mother was always on business trips and never picked up the phone anyway. "I called the Kishi's, but they said you weren't there either. If Claudia's with you, tell her to call her parents. They're very worried too." From the corner of my eye, I saw Claudia, Abby, Polly and Ice-box exiting the party.

"I will, I'm sorry," I said again. Claudia and Stacey were chatting casually, while Abby glared at Dori. "I'll never do it again."

"Are you sure you're okay," asked my father. "You sound a little strange."

"Ummm, I'm fine," I said, trying to sound as sober as possible. "I'm just a little tired. I think we're going to go to bed soon." I could see Dori giving Abby a nasty glance, and then turned back to Sheila and said something. In a flash, Abby lunged for Dori, and with one punch hit her square in the face. I heard Claudia screech, "Oh my lord!"

"Uh dad, I gotta go, I'll talk to you tomorrow." I hung up the phone before my father had a chance to say goodbye. I ran up to the porch, where Abby had just shoved a screaming Dori on the ground. Claudia and Polly were desperately trying to pull Abby off of her.

"You're dead, you bitch!" shouted Abby. In a powerful burst, Dori managed to fling Abby of her, knocking Claudia over. Dori's nose was bleeding and her hair was matted and messy. She launched a pathetic swing, but I grabbed her before she could do anything, while Polly and Claudia held back Abby. A small crowd had gathered and a lot of people were laughing and muttering things like "oh, shit" and "girl fight."

"You ugly bitch," shrieked Dori, holding her hand up to her nose. "I'm going to sue you, you fucking crazy jewbitch." She tried to shake me off. "Get the hell off of me."

"I'm going to kick your ass," cried Abby, twisting in Polly and Claudia's grip. "I'm going to smash your fucking face in, you stupid cunt." Polly and Claudia dragged her off the porch towards the sidewalk. Ice-box followed them, shaking his head. I let go of Dori, who gave me a shove.

"Keep that bitch away from me," she yelled, and ran inside the house. Sheila and Stacey gave me an incredulous look, yet I could tell they were trying not to laugh.

"What happened?" I asked. Abby was stilling hurling insults from the sidewalk, despite the fact that Dori had gone inside. "What did Dori say to her?"

"She said something about not coming to parties anymore if they were going to start letting dirtbags in," replied Stacey. "And then Abby just lost it."

"Oh, wow," I said. "Do you think she broke her nose?"

"I don't think so, but she was bleeding pretty heavily," answered Stacey. "But I have to admit it was pretty funny. Dori can be a huge bitch. It was kind of nice to see someone finally kick her ass."

"C'mon, Mary Anne, let's go!" called Claudia. Abby was still swearing and practically had steam coming from her ears.

"I better go," I said to Sheila and Stacey. "Bye."

"Bye," they said in unison, and went back to talking to each other.

We walked away, with Abby still spitting and cursing. She didn't shut up for about five minutes. I told Claudia about her parents, whom she promptly called and dealt with. We decided to go to Ice-box's brother apartment, seeing as he, Claudia and Polly still wanted to hang out. Claudia lit up a cigarette and passed the carton around. I didn't take one, but Abby took one and lit it up with Polly's lighter.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" I asked. "That can't be good for your asthma."

"I don't care," she cried. "I wish I could have beat up that bitch more."

We walked for about twenty minutes until we reached Ice-box's brother's apartment, which was actually a small, somewhat run-down house on High Street that he and his roommate rented. That made me a little nervous, as High Street was right off of Burnt Hill Road and not too far at all from my house. According to Ice-box, I guess he and his roommate were both bartenders in Stamford and wouldn't be back until around 3 or 4 a.m.

We went inside and practically collapsed on the sofa. Claudia's boots were not exactly suited for walking long distances. Abby sat down next to me, nursing her hand.

"I think I bruised my knuckles on Dori's nose," she moaned.

"Well, you got what you deserved," I replied. "You shouldn't have hit her, Abby. When your buzz wears off you're going to regret it."

"Never," said Abby firmly. "That bitch didn't like me before for no good reason. Now she's got one, at least."

I leaned back, while Ice-box joined us in the living room, with a pipe in one hand.

"Thanks for letting us come over," I said, somewhat half-heartedly. I actually kind of wanted to go to bed and sleep, but it was nice to sit down.

"No problem," replied Ice-box, taking a puff from his pipe. "My brother doesn't really care, as long as we don't eat his food. I keep some drinks here, if you want anything."

"No, that's okay," I said. My head was still swimming.

Claudia entered the room, a joint rolled up in one hand. She passed it to Polly, who had followed behind her.

"Want a hit?" she asked me, offering it to me.

"No thanks," I said. I didn't want anything else, marijuana or otherwise, put into my body that night.

She didn't offer any to Abby, who didn't really seem to notice. Her eyes were half-closed and she looked about ready to doze off. The room began to fill with the aroma of what I assumed was pot. I sat and chatted with everyone else, but after awhile I could feel myself nodding off. I figured it was time to leave.

"C'mon, Abby" I said, pulling her up. "It's time to go."

Abby groaned a little bit and curled herself up into a ball on the couch.

"You guys can stay here if you want," spoke up Ice-box. "The basement is renovated and has a sofa that folds out."

"That's okay," I said. "We can walk home, it's not too far."

"We just came from that direction." Abby's whine rivaled that of some of the children we used to baby-sit for. "I'm too tired to walk back." She stretched out on the couch and turned her back to me.

I didn't really want to stay, but Abby obviously wasn't budging. I sighed and gave up. I wasn't going to walk home by myself, or go home for that matter. My father was mad at me enough as it was without me waltzing in the door at two in the morning.

"Whatever," I said, and sat down on top of Abby. Abby groaned underneath me and tried to shove me off.

"I wouldn't mess with her," said Claudia. "You saw what she can do. Come on, I'll bring you downstairs."

We followed Claudia downstairs into a messy, albeit habitable, basement covered in posters of bands that I hadn't heard of and scantily clad girls. Claudia unfolded a large and old couch into a mattress already prepared with some bed sheets and a thin comforter. I wish I had a pair of pajamas, but I knew I was going to have to rough it in a pair of jeans and Claudia's halter top. Abby immediately collapsed onto it, and Claudia looked like she was not too far behind. She kept yawning and her eyes were pretty red, although I'm fairly certain the latter was not from a lack of sleep.

"I think we three can all fit on here," said Claudia. "It's pretty big." She kicked off her shoes and climbed in next to Abby. "There's also that recliner over there that's not too bad to sleep in, if you prefer."

"I'm going to go use the bathroom, and then I'll be right down," I told Claudia. I went upstairs and almost walked in on Polly and Ice-box making out on the couch in the living room, but I don't think they noticed. I tiptoed into the bathroom and glanced at myself in the mirror. I didn't look as horrible as I expected. My hair was kind of messy, but my makeup had somehow managed not to smudge, despite having thrown up, broken up a fight, and almost been kissed by Alan Gray. I bent down in the sink and tried to wash my face using just water, seeing as there seemed to be no face wash of any kind available. I looked up. Little black rivers pooled underneath my eyes and my eye shadow was smeared across my face. I suddenly looked pale and tired. I quickly wiped the rest of my makeup off with a bar of soap and tried to brush my finger with my teeth. I finally gave up and stuck to rinsing. I gave my hair a quick brush with my hand before leaving to go to bed. Before I went downstairs I got myself a glass of water and downed it. I didn't want to wake up with a hangover.

Downstairs, Claudia and Abby appeared to be asleep already. The sofa bed looked small even for two people, so I opted to sleep in the recliner. It was going to be a rough night. Even stretched out to its full length, it was still almost like sitting up. I grabbed an afghan that was sloppily draped over the top and pulled it around me. Before I went to bed I set the alarm on my cell phone for 9:00am. I wanted to get out of there as early as possible and back to Abby's. I was beginning to feel nervous about lying to my father. I twisted and turned on the recliner, trying to get comfortable. Over the course of one evening I had become a liar, drunk, and house crasher, which actually felt kind of…nice. I felt edgy and happier than I had been in awhile, despite all the drama of the night.

I can't be certain, but I'm pretty sure I fell asleep with a smile on my face.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N – Sorry I have not updated in a while, I've been on a cruise! Thanks to all who R&Red. I'm really glad I decided to take this story back again, and happy that people are reading and enjoying it!

Chapter Eight

The next morning I woke up to the sound of Black Sabbath's "Ironman" coming from the upstairs radio. I looked at the time on my phone. It read eight thirty. I stretched my arms over my head and tried to crack my stiff back. I had slept pretty soundly throughout the night, surprisingly, but now my whole body felt sore, including my head. My stomach felt queasy also. The music seemed to get louder as it began to play "Carry on my Wayward Son" by Kansas. I could hear someone moving around upstairs, and heard the sound of a shower turning off. Claudia groaned and put a pillow over her head, while Abby remained motionless on the bed, snoring away. I tried to get up, but I fell backwards into the recliner. I was exhausted and felt terrible.

"Ooo, I'm so tired," I moaned, clutching my head. "And I wish I had an ice-pack."

Claudia grunted something incomprehensible in return, while Abby continued to snore lightly. I sat motionless for a few moments, until I heard the basement door open. I looked up thinking it was going to be Polly and Ice-box, but instead it was Sam Thomas, coming down the stairs in a loosely wrapped towel, totally oblivious to our presence. To my horror, he whipped off his towel completely and began to dry his hair as he hummed along with Kansas, exposing himself entirely.

"Um, I, um," I stuttered, covering my eyes with my hand, blushing a little. "Uh…"

"Jesus Christ," screamed Sam, nearly jumping out of his skin, naked and uncovered as it was. He quickly covered himself with his towel. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Ummm, Ice-box told us we could stay," I said, my face beet red. "What are you doing here?"

"I _live_ here," he replied a little indignantly. I could understand. He had just exposed himself to two high-school girls whom he had known since they were babies. "I just wish Ice-box could have said something to me!" He ran back up stairs, clinging to his towel. I gaped at Claudia and Abby, who had apparently woken up just in time for that spectacle.

"Awkward turtle," she said, making the motion with her hands. She then flopped down on the pillow and pulled the covers over head.

After that Claudia and I were pretty much awake, so after a little prodding we finally got Abby up. I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, without bumping into Sam Thomas, clothed or not. We went up stairs and snuck through the house without seeing anyone, luckily. We were planning on walking to Abby's, and making breakfast there. We started down the sidewalk, dragging our feet along.

"Hey, do you guys need a ride?" asked Sam Thomas, standing outside his car. It was a shiny black BMW. I would guess he didn't spend his own money on it. "I'm going over to the house for breakfast, so I'm on my way out."

"Sure, we're going to my house, so it's right on the way," piped up Abby, before I had a chance to decline his offer. It was going to be an awkward ride. She looked at both of us and we shrugged in unison.

"Fine," I practically hissed, as Sam got in the driver's seat and shut the door. "But you're sitting up front."

The ride was mostly quiet, except for Abby, who couldn't seem to keep her mouth shut, retelling all of last night's events and laughing over them. I could see Sam raise an eyebrow at me through the rearview mirror. I was probably the last person on earth he expected to do such things. I looked out the window and remained silent. He must have sensed the tension, so he began talking about himself in typical Sam Thomas style. He talked about his classes at Stoneybrook University, having his own apartment, and about how he bartended on weekends to earn rent. I remember Kristy saying something once about Watson volunteering to pay his rent, but Elizabeth wouldn't let him. She wanted her children to earn things on their own, supposedly. He let us off at Abby's house, and we climbed out of the car.

"Thanks," I said to him before getting out. I still couldn't look him in the eye.

"No problem," he answered, averting his eyes also. "Sorry about this morning."

"That's okay," I said quickly, not really wanting to discuss it. "Can you do me a favor and not tell Kristy about this morning or anything that happened last night? I don't really feel like explaining anything."

"Sure," replied Sam, scratching his head. "I don't really feel like explaining myself either." He pulled the car out of park as I shut the door.

"Bye," I waved, watching as Sam pulled into the Brewer-Thomas driveway. I really hoped he would keep his word. He had just as big a mouth as Kristy.

Once inside, we pretty much just sat down at the kitchen table like lumps, all of us feeling pretty terrible. It was only little past nine, early for a weekend and made especially worse by a night of heavy drinking. No one made a move to start cooking breakfast.

"Do you have any aspirin?" I asked Abby, who nodded and pulled a bottle out of a kitchen drawer. She placed it in the middle of the table.

"Help yourself," she said. She put her head on the table. "I think I might just have aspirin for breakfast."

"Not a bad idea," said Claudia. She got up and poured us three glasses of water. "Here, I'll cook." She placed one in front of each of us.

"Thanks," I said. I swallowed two caps and most of the water. "I actually think I might go back to bed."

"Yeah, same here," replied Abby. "I'm exhausted."

"I'm think I'm gonna go," said Claudia. "I have rehearsal at twelve, and I should probably take a shower and change before then." She rubbed her face with her hands. There were large bags under her eyes. "I might make myself a cup of coffee before I go home."

"Go ahead," yawned Abby, stretching her arms over her head. "Are you going to walk home?"

"Nah," said Claudia. "My dad has off today. I'll have him pick me up. Do you have some pajama's I could borrow, so it doesn't look like I slept in my clothes?"

"Sure," replied Abby. "I'll be right back." She ambled out of the room, her eyes half shut.

"So, that was embarrassing," said Claudia, putting her feet on the table.

"I know," I replied. "I can't believe I saw Sam Thomas naked. I mean he's mooned me and Kristy plenty of times, but I never saw the front of him. Besides, that was years ago."

"Well, yeah, that too," she said. "But I was talking about Abby last night. Caleb was super pissed. He said if he ever has another party, he doesn't want her to come. Dori was practically threatening to call the police right there and then. He could have gotten in a lot of trouble."

"Wow," I said. "Are you mad at her?" I hadn't seen Claudia angry towards anyone since eighth grade, when the BSC used to get in fights of some shape or form practically every day.

"No, I'm not mad," replied Claudia, lowering her voice. "But I kind of regret bringing her. I mean, I know Dori is a stupid whore, which is why no one listens to her anyway. Abby should have said something back and been done with it, instead of hitting her. There's definitely some people who probably shouldn't drink if they're going to act like that and she's one of those people."

"I didn't act like her, did I?" I asked. I was pretty sure I didn't, but I wanted to hear it.

"No, not at all," she answered definitively. "You were funny and cute, and a lot of fun without acting super fucking crazy."

She stopped talking suddenly, as we could hear Abby coming down the stairs. Claudia thanked Abby for the clothes.

"I think I'm going to have a smoke and then change," she said. "That way my dad won't smell the smoke on me." She opened a can of coffee on the counter, and placed it in the coffee maker. "I'll be back for the coffee."

"Let yourself in and out," said Abby. "I'm going to bed."

"Me too," I replied. Maybe I would feel better after a long nap.

We said goodbye to Claudia, who went out on the back porch to have her cigarette, the last one left in the carton. I think she went through a whole pack between last night and today. I know she shared them with other people, but it was still a pretty large amount considering she was only sixteen years old. I don't see how it was possible that her parents had no idea about her habit. I watched through the screen as she lit it up, and breathe in the smoke as if she needed it to survive. For the first time I felt concerned.

I followed Abby upstairs, where she gave me a pair of old pajamas of Anna's to sleep in. I gave my teeth another brush with my finger and rinsed it out with mouthwash, before collapsing on the guest bedroom bed. I slept until my phone woke me up.

"Hello?" I answered groggily. I wasn't even sure what time it was.

"Are you still sleeping?" asked my father. "You sound like I woke you up."

"Um, yeah, I was up earlier, but I was still tired, so I decided to go back to bed and take a nap," I think it was the first true thing I had told my father in awhile. It was a truth lacking detail, but a truth all the same.

"Are you sure you're okay?" replied my father, sounding concerned. "You might be sick."

"No, I'm feeling fine," I answered. And I was. My headache was gone and the only thing I felt was hungry.

"Well, just to be sure, how about I come pick you up in a half an hour," said my father. "I'm about to the leave the office in a few minutes and I can swing by Abby's along the way. You still sound tired to me."

"Okay," I said. I looked at the clock on the nightstand. It read 1:30pm. I had been asleep for over four hours. "I'll be ready. See you soon."

"See you soon," he echoed. He hung up the phone with a click.

I rolled out of bed and walked downstairs, where Abby was perched in front of the television in the living room, eating a plate of nachos.

"Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey," she greeted me cheerily. She seemed to be feeling better also.

"I can't believe I slept that long," I said, sitting next to her. She was watching _Back to the Future_. "I wouldn't even have woken up if my dad hadn't called me. He's coming soon to pick me up." A worrisome thought suddenly flashed across my mind. "Hey, I don't smell like beer, do I?"

Abby leaned over and sniffed me. She crinkled her face in thought.

"Not really," she said, her mouth full of nachos. "You smell a little bit like smoke and beer, but it's really faint."

"Do you mind if I hop in the shower for about five minutes?" I asked. "And could I borrow a t-shirt and a pair of flip-flops to go home in? If my dad saw me in that backless halter top and those boots, I think he'd have a heart attack!"

Abby nodded and went to get me the clothes during a commercial while I hopped in the downstairs shower. I quickly scrubbed my body with a bar of soap and shampooed my hair and hopped out. Abby brought me a light blue polo shirt of Anna's that was nearly identical to one I already owned, and a pair of grey flip flops that were too big for my feet.

"I feel like some kind of consignment shop," laughed Abby. "What, with all the old clothes I've handed out today. Sorry about the shoes. We all have big feet."

"It's fine," I said. "It's not like I'm going on a hike or anything. I just need them for the car ride to my house."

We went into the kitchen, where I made a sandwich and ate some chips to curb my hunger. Abby talked while I prepared my food, moving casually around her kitchen as if it were my own.

"Hey, guess what?" Abby said, hopping on the counter, swinging her legs and hitting the cabinets beneath her. "I figured out what I want to do for my birthday."

"What's that?" I asked, my mouth full of sandwich, which made it sound more like "wuf mhat?"

"I want to have a huge party here at the house!" she said. "Next Saturday, when my mother will be gone. Of course, I have to see if Anna wants to do that too, because she will be home that weekend, but I don't think she'll mind. We can invite our whole class, too."

"Well, if that's what you want to do," I said slowly, and a little bit doubtfully. I remembered Claudia's comment earlier, and I wasn't sure Abby should host any parties. "But you saw the Danver's house last night. Your house is going to get trashed, I hope you know that."

"I don't care," she replied. "My mom said I could do something that weekend and she didn't say what!" She took a giant leap of the counter. I didn't know what to say, so I was lucky that I heard a car honk outside. I quickly said goodbye to Abby and rushed out the door and hopped into the passengers of my father's car. He drove off, but instead of driving to the house, he pulled into the parking lot of SHS and put the car into park.

"Um, why are we at school?" I asked, confused.

"I thought you might like to practice driving," he replied. "I thought this would be a nice place to try. There's hardly any traffic here on a Saturday."

"Uhhh, okay," I replied, a little nervously. I had only driven once before, and it was with Sharon, the day I got my permit. Sharon practically had a heart attack and would only let me go five miles an hour once around the block, and clung to the dashboard the whole time. It was no wonder I hadn't driven since then. Plus, I was wearing flip flops that were too big for me.

My father and I switched seats, and I adjusted mine so I was closer to the pedals. I buckled my seat belt and checked the mirrors to make sure I had a clear view in each one, like I had always seen my father do. I slowly put my foot down on the brake and pulled the car out of park and into drive.

"Very good," said my father. "Now, keeping your hands exactly where they are, slowly go forward, using both your right foot for the gas and the brake pedal."

I pushed lightly on the gas pedal, and the car rolled forward. I drove once around the parking lot, using my signals correctly and stopping and looking carefully at each stop sign. I pulled over to the side of the road after going once around and put the car into park.

"Mary Anne, that was really great!" said my father. "You're a natural!"

"My braking was pretty jerky, though," I admitted, although I did feel pretty happy with myself. I, one of the most nervous, timid and worrisome people in the universe, might actually be a good driver. Even in shoes that were falling off my feet. It was something I never expected. "And my turns were a little sharp."

"Those things come with time and experience," replied my father, patting me on the back. "But you did quite well for someone who has never driven before."

We went around the parking lot a few more times, and my dad gave me a few more pointers. He showed me how to reverse and do a three point turn, which I learned fairly quickly.

"You did very well," he said. "I'll even let you drive home, if you want."

"Sure," I said. I felt confident enough to do so.

We made it home fine, and I managed to pull up next to the house without hitting the curb or parking unevenly or too far away. Sharon was in the front yard, doing some gardening, and gave us a puzzled look when she saw me climb out of the driver's seat.

"You let her drive the Porsche?" she said incredulously, putting down her spade. She shook her head in disbelief. "That took some courage."

"Mary Anne did an excellent job, actually," said my father, placing a hand on my shoulder. "She could have taken the test today and probably passed."

"Oh, well, good job then, I guess," said Sharon, her voice and face still full of disbelief.

"Thanks," I answered, not meaning it. My father and I went inside without saying another word to her, as Sharon picked up her spade and continued to garden.

I went up to my room and looked at my AP US History, Physics, and College French textbooks lying on a neat pile on my desk, waiting for me to open them up and start doing the piles of homework I had for Monday. I also had to take the PSAT/NMSQT's in about three weeks, and needed to start studying. Yet I had no urge to do any of it at the moment. I also had Sharon's ripped wedding dress waiting for me to repair in the closet. Instead, I dove backward onto bed, my head hitting the pillows and stared at the ceiling. A funny feeling was forming in the pit of stomach. For a moment, I thought it was the remnants of a hangover and I was going to puke again, but instead it actually felt pleasant. It was the feeling of excitement. It was the realization that I didn't have to be boring and studious Mary Anne anymore, or the shy sensitive one, or Kristy Thomas' sidekick. I could be those things, but I also could be daring, bold, and most importantly, laidback. I had never had so much happen to me in the course of just a few days, and maybe it was about time I stopped caring if Sharon was a bitch, or if Kristy was bossy, or what other people thought of me. I sat back up on the edge of my bed, and walked over to my desk and put my books into a drawer. I was not going to be the old Mary Anne today.

Instead, I called Kristy. After the third ring, she picked up.

"Hello?" answered Kristy tightly. "You're not in trouble because you went to that party, are you? Do you need me to bail you out of jail?"

"No," I cried indignantly, and borderline snottily. "I was calling to tell you that Abby figured out what she wanted to do for her birthday next week. She wants to have a party at her house."

"Okay," replied Kristy. "Well, I'll make a list of the food, decorations, and other stuff we'll need, and who we want to invite."

A picture of Kristy hanging up streamers and balloons at a kegger flashed across my mind. I laughed.

"Okay," I answered. "I think she wants the menu to consist of beer and invite the whole class, no RSVP required. Oh and I wouldn't worry about any decorations. Just plastic cups." I sounded snarky and was glad of it.

"Are you serious? There's no way I am going to a party like that, or have anything to do with planning it," she answered, her voice firm. "I can't believe you are going along with that craziness. Unless this is some kind of joke."

"No, it's not a joke," I said. "It's what she wants to do. It's her birthday, and she can do what she wants. No one is going to make you do anything you don't want to."

"What's happened to you?" asked Kristy. "I thought you were smarter than that."

"Than what?" I shouted. "Just because I decided to do something every normal teenage person does? Because I _dare_ do something you didn't?" I lowered my voice. "Am I a horrible person because I went to a party and drank?"

"Maybe," Kristy shouted back at me. "At least when you followed my example, you were following a good one. Don't tell me that you did whatever you did last night because you really wanted to. You are a follower. You always walked behind someone, whether it was me or Logan or now Claudia or whatever, and you are incapable of making any decisions for yourself."

"Then you don't know me at all," I replied, my voice still and hard as a rock. "The worst decision I could make would be to allow you to treat me like an inferior person. And you can think I am incompetent, but at least I don't make decisions for other people, Kristin Amanda." I emphasized the last two words knowing she hated her full name. "At least I am comfortable enough with myself that I don't try to control everyone and everything around me. I think that's the reason why you're mad, because you can't control me anymore."

"You're out of control," snapped Kristy, her voice shaking a little. I had actually made Kristy quiver a little. "Do you really want to end up like Claudia, doing drugs and drinking and practically failing every class?"

"I went to one party!" I shouted in a whisper, not wanting my dad to hear. "That is hardly out of control. You need to lighten up, Kristy."

"You also skipped one day of school," continued Kristy. "And one day of skipped school turns into another and another and you're already planning the next party. So don't tell me that nonsense. Are you trying to make me feel like a loser because I don't drink or cut class or go to stupid parties with people I don't even like? Excuse me, for not being as cool as you!"

"No one is making you drink!" I cried, exasperated. "I never said that and would never say that! I don't care what you do; you are only upset because I am not doing what you _want_ me to do! You are the most self-righteous, uptight and manipulative person I know!"

"Whatever you say," she sneered. "I'm going to call Abby and be a _good friend_ and talk her out of having that party."

"Fine," I shouted, this time not caring how loud my voice was. "Go, try to control somebody else. I've said all I need to say." I shut my phone and threw it on the bed. I was upset, but I wasn't in tears and I wasn't shaking with anger. I took a deep breath, and waited for someone to knock on the door and ask what was wrong, seeing as I had just been shouting. It took me a moment to realize that there was a separate shouting match going on downstairs.

I opened the door, and I could hear Sharon yelling, pausing every few seconds. I tiptoed halfway down the stairs, peeked over the railing, and saw her shouting at someone on the phone in the kitchen.

"I don't care, Carol," she snarled, her face boiling red. "She's my daughter and I will take care of it. I am her mother. You are not!"

My father was standing in the living room, listening awkwardly. I gave him a puzzled look and he shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, apparently not knowing what had happened either.

"Don't you dare call the police," screamed Sharon. "You call Jack." There was a pause. "I don't care, wait until he comes back before you do anything. Put her on the phone."

"What happened?" I whispered to my dad. I had progressively tip-toed into the living room while Sharon had continued to scream on the phone, totally unaware of our presence.

"I'm not sure, but whatever happened, Dawn is in a lot of trouble," he said. "Carol called her in a fit of rage, for some reason."

"Wow," I muttered. Sharon was now screaming at Dawn.

"How could you be so stupid?" she screamed, pacing back and forth. "No, you're not going to jail. Stop her! Tell her to give the phone to me!" Sharon pounded her fist on the table and presumably waited for Dawn to hand the phone to Carol. "Don't you dare do that! I'm coming over there on the first plane." There was another pause. "Right now!" She grabbed her purse, keys, and ran out the door. My father and I exchanged glances, and he ran out the door after her.

I sat down, my head spinning and ringing. It took me a moment to realize the ringing was coming from my own phone. I ran upstairs, wondering if it was Dawn, calling for someone to keep her mother under control. I picked it up, and it was a number I did not recognize.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Hi, Mary Anne?" said a male voice that I could not immediately distinguish.

"Yes," I answered, confused. "Who is this?"

"It's Alan," he said. I groaned inwardly. "I just wanted to apologize for last night. I was really drunk and I acted like a jerk."

"No, it's okay, really" I said back, sort of distractedly. I was looking out the bathroom window. Sharon and my father were arguing on the sidewalk. "So was I."

"Yeah, but I wanted to make it up to you," he said. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Um, nothing really," I said, twisting my hair nervously. Was Alan Gray asking me out? "Why?"

"I was just wondering if you would like to get something to eat at the Rosebud," he said. "I promise I won't be creepy or weird. Well, maybe a little, but no more than usual. And I won't hit on you. Well, except if you're in a bathroom. Then my actions can't be accounted for."

I laughed, in spite of myself. Sharon was now getting in the front seat of her car, and my father the passenger side. They drove off, yelling at each other the whole time. I had nothing to do but wait until they came back, wondering what mess Dawn had gotten herself into. I suppose there were worse things than going out with Alan Gray.

"Sure," I replied. "How soon can you pick me up?"

"As soon as you want," he said. "I'll just have to cancel all my other dates. The girls won't be happy, but they'll get over it."

"Nice," I answered. "How about in an hour?"

"Sounds good," he said. "See you then!"

"Bye," I said, and hung up the phone. I kicked off Abby's flip-flops and stretched out on the bed. Alan was not my ideal or anyone I would really consider dating, but he was funny, if a little creepy when drunk. But at that point, anything was better than staying at home.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

I tried calling my father once before getting ready for Alan, but he didn't pick up. I wondered if they would both come back that night, or if Sharon would really fly all the way to California with nothing but what was in her purse, which was probably only a pair of scissors and a corkscrew. As I picked out my clothes for the evening, I tried to guess the horrible thing Dawn presumably had done. To the best of my knowledge she would never steal and or do hard drugs, but my current knowledge of Dawn consisted of next to nothing. The last time we talked she had complained about school and how unfair Jack and Carol were to her, while I hinted at what a bitch Sharon was. I wondered if maybe she was in trouble for splashing an old lady's fur coat with red paint for PETA or bashing in the windows of some senator's Hummer. That seemed like something straight up her alley.

I selected a pair of brown corduroy pants, a three quarter sleeve light pink button up shirt and a pair of flat penny loafer slingbacks. It was casual and simple and wouldn't give Alan the wrong idea. The last thing I wanted to do was to give him the wrong impression by wearing an outfit similar to the one I wore last night. I was applying some light makeup when I heard my phone ring. It was Claudia.

"Hi-hi," I chirped, holding the phone and trying to apply a coat of mascara at the same time.

"Okay, Jamie Newton," she joked, giggling. "What are you up to?"

"You might never believe this, but Alan Gray actually called me this afternoon and asked me to go to dinner with him!" My voice had taken on an unexpected girlish and giddy tone.

"Haha, I knew you would say yes!" she laughed triumphantly. "He's doing crew for the show and kept talking to me at rehearsal today about how much you must hate him now. So I gave him your number and told him to ask you out for dinner tonight. He was so sure you would say no. He even bet me twenty dollars on it." She snorted. "Guess I'm twenty dollars richer."

"Since when is Alan Gray scared to do anything?" I asked, a little hesitantly. I've never heard of anyone trying to hook up an ex-boyfriend with someone else. It seemed strange, even for Claudia. "That can't be the same boy who would prank us all the time or set off cherry bombs in the boy bathroom, or auctioned off Shawna Riverson's zit cream in the cafeteria."

"Oh my lord, I forgot about that whole zit cream thing." Claudia practically burst into hysterics. "That was so funny. But seriously, Alan's changed. Well, sort of." I heard her munching on something thoughtfully in the background. "You two would be cute together. Maybe you'd have some kind of calming influence on him."

"I am not dating Alan Gray," I replied tightly. "He'll always be a big goofball to me."

"Okay…," sang Claudia, hinting at something in her tone. "Well, if you're interested, there is going to be a small post party tonight at Caleb's. We're going to clean up the house and bring back all the empties and buy some more beer with it. You and Alan could come together if you want."

"No thanks," I said quickly, shooting down both her invitation and the idea of me and Alan being together. "There's a lot going on around here and I should probably go home right after dinner." I explained to her the whole situation with Dawn.

"Ooooo, I wonder what she did," pondered Claudia. I could practically see her eyes shining with thought. "Maybe she got busted for pot or something. She seems like she would be into an all natural drug that grows in the ground. Let me know what happens."

"Sure," I said. "I'll call you later tonight." We said goodbye and hung up, and I finished my hair and makeup. I tried calling my father again, but he still didn't pick up. Even if I had wanted to try ringing Sharon, she had left her cell phone on the kitchen table.

I went downstairs and fed Tigger, and I flipped through the channels waiting for Alan to pick me up. About ten minutes after he was supposed to come, I heard the doorbell ring. I hadn't even heard a car pull up. I answered the door and saw Alan standing there, wearing a pair of jeans and a plain red polo, his dark hair neatly combed. At least he looked nice. Usually he wore t-shirts that said things like "I'd hit that" with a picture of a piñata or "Soccer Moms are easy" or obnoxious things along those lines. He was also polite enough to ring the doorbell, instead of honking the horn for me outside.

"Good evening," he said, his tone dripping with exaggerated charm. "I'm sorry I was late, but I know how you ladies need time to get ready, so I figured it was okay."

"Thanks," I muttered, wincing at the word "ladies". I stepped outside onto the porch and locked the door after me. I turned around and saw Alan standing next to what looked like a red scooter, which was parked behind my father's car.

"That's what you picked me up in?" I gaped, staring at it. He hopped onto it and it started it using the pedal. He smiled at me.

"It's my moped," he grinned. "I don't have a car yet. It used to belong to my dad in the seventies and we restored it together this summer." He put on a blue helmet. There was a red one dangling from the handlebars. "Here, I brought you an extra one." He tossed it to me. I fumbled and dropped it on the ground, partly because I couldn't catch a beach ball to save my life, and partly because I was still aghast at the sight of his moped.

"Am I supposed to ride on the back of that?" I asked in complete disbelief.

"That's the general idea," he said, grinning goofily, unaware of my shocked expression. "You could sit on the handlebars if you wanted to, but I wouldn't suggest it. That's how Pete got seven stitches in his head this past summer. But I wouldn't go full speed over any speed bumps with you on the handlebars like I did with Pete."

"I think I'll just sit on back," I responded weakly, going pale in the face. I had half a mind to walk back into the house and shut the door, but somehow I managed to put my helmet on and climb onto the back of the moped, and straddle Alan without touching him. He started down the street, and I awkwardly slid my arms around his waist, blushing profusely as I did. I must have looked like an apple with my red helmet and face.

Alan didn't go too fast, but it certainly felt like it to me. I forgot about feeling awkward and embarrassed, and held onto him for dear life, even burying my face in his back around some sharp turns. We didn't talk much on the ride over to the Rosebud, seeing as we would have to shout over the noise of the road and the moped. I was too busy concentrating on holding on, and I wasn't sure what to talk about anyway. It was a pretty short ride, surprisingly, and we arrived at the Rosebud in only a few minutes. I hopped off the bike, my legs wobbling like jelly. I took off my helmet and tried to quickly style my now flattened hair with my fingers.

"I get about 100 miles to the gallon on this hog," he said proudly, pulling off his own helmet and taking mine from me. Some people in the car next to us overheard him and started laughing. He turned and gave them a wave. I blushed a little and looked down at the ground, hoping I didn't know them. As we started walking inside, I tried to make small talk.

"So, do you ride your moped to school?" I asked politely. "I don't think I've seen it before."

"Nah, usually I just get a ride with Logan or somebody," he answered, holding the door open for me. "But seeing as I do not as of yet own an automobile, it's useful for getting around the booming metropolis of Stoneybrook, a town so huge I can ride across it on a moped in 15 minutes."

We were seated at a small booth in a far corner across from a group of about six middle school kids whom I vaguely recognized, possibly because they were or used to be friends with the children I once baby-sat. They were standing on their seats and shouting idiotic things at each other, and laughing at the most inane things. Alan and I opened up our menus and talked over the noise at the next table.

"Oh, to be young again," he quipped, leafing through the menu. One of the kids next to us started throwing food, and a fry landed in the middle of our table. Alan looked for a moment like he was planning on throwing something back, but I must have been shooting daggers at him with my eyes, because he quickly looked back to his menu. The conversation was a little strained after that. Alan told a lot of jokes, some funny, some not. The server came over and we quickly ordered our food.

"So, did you have a good time last night?" I asked, sipping my soda.

Alan shrugged.

"It was okay," he said. "But I got really sick this morning. I don't think I've ever threw up that much in my life. I mean, there was stuff in there I think I ate like three weeks ago." I crinkled my nose a little, and he quickly changed the subject. "What about you, I don't think I've ever seen you out at parties before."

"I had a pretty good time, in spite of throwing up and all the drama," I replied. "Claudia's fun and I had a good time hanging out with everyone."

"Yeah, Claudia's fun," he echoed, tearing up his paper straw wrapper and rolling it into little balls. "She's gotten pretty wild. I remember when we're going out she said she'd never do drugs or drink." He laughed. "_That_ was a long time ago."

"I hope she doesn't do drugs, besides pots," I stumbled, my hand flying to my mouth after realizing I had said "pots" instead of "pot".

"Well, I mean that's understandable, I was really addicted to Tupperware for awhile," he joked, without even flinching at my flub. "It's a hard habit to break, let me tell you."

I laughed. Our food arrived, and we spent the rest of the time eating and making fun of the kids next to us.

"Is that one guy Pinocchio or something?" he said, pointing to a boy who was wearing suspenders and a paperboy cap for some god awful reason. Alan's voice took on a high pitched tone. "I'll be a real boy someday!"

I nearly spit my soda across the table.

"Don't do that while I'm drinking!" I choked, laughing at the same time.

"Wow, Mary Anne, you sure give a lot of commands," he teased. He attempted to do an imitation of me and pointed with his finger. "Alan, don't hit on me when you're drunk. Alan, don't go so fast around turns. Alan, don't make me laugh when I'm drinking. Alan, don't throw ice-cubes down my shirt."

"I never said that last thing!" I retorted. As if on cue, Alan flung with exact precision an ice cube down the front of my blouse. Now the kids next to us were looking at us like we were obnoxious idiots. I jumped nearly a mile and tried to shake it out. "Hey, don't…"

"Throw ice cubes down your shirt," he finished for me. "See, I knew you would say it. I know women too well." He cracked his knuckles and put on his best Rico Suave face. "Hey, you don't need…"

"No, I don't need any help getting the ice cube out of my shirt, thank you very much," I answered, giving him a smug, yet amused, look. He laughed and threw up his hands in defeat.

"Clearly, I've met my match," he said, smiling. For a moment we didn't say anything, and we stared at each other awkwardly. His eyes were a pretty amber color, and rather nice when he wasn't doing something goofy with them, like putting yellow M&M's on his eyelids and pretending to be Little Orphan Annie. I quickly tore my gaze away and instead looked at our mostly empty plates.

"Maybe we should ask for the check," I said, reaching for my purse.

"Sure," he said, signaling the server. "But don't worry about paying. I asked you out and I'll pay." We argued for a little bit about that; I insisted on paying for my meal, while he wanted to pay both. Eventually we agreed that I would pay for my dinner, but he would pay tax and tip. We paid our check and got up to leave the restaurant. As we walked towards the door, I caught sight of Logan, taking down a family's order on the other side of the cafe. When he saw us, he cast a quizzical look in our direction and walked over to us.

"What are you two doing here?" he asked, confused. He gave Alan a strange look.

"We just finished having dinner," I answered, sensing tension. Logan frowned slightly at my answer. Alan was giving Logan an equally strange look, although his seemed to suggest that he didn't understand Logan's reaction.

"Oh," he said tightly. "Well, I have to get back to work. See you guys later." He seemed to glare at us as we walked out the door. We were silent until we were a safe distance away.

"What was that about?" I asked as we reached Alan's moped, putting on my helmet.

Alan shrugged.

"I don't know, Logan's weird sometimes," he mumbled, putting on his own helmet and starting up his bike. He quickly changed the topic, and we rode off.

It had gotten a lot colder since we left the house, and I was actually thankful to have my arms wrapped around Alan. He was warm, at least. A shiver went up my back from the breeze.

"Getting excited back there, frisky?" joked Alan, yelling over the moped. I slapped his shoulder and turned red again for the second time that evening. We pulled up to my house and I jumped off and gave Alan back his helmet. We had another awkward moment, and I wasn't sure what to do.

"Um, thank you, for taking me out," I said, smiling. "I had fun."

"Any time," he answered. "Sorry about the moped. I know it's not the hot car you imagined a stud like me would have."

I laughed.

"It was fine," I replied sincerely. "I've never been on a moped before." There was a pause. I played with the strap on my purse a little nervously. "Do you think Logan was upset because we were on umm…a date together?

"Don't worry about Logan," he said, rolling his eyes. "He's just been PMSing lately." He started his moped again. "Well, I'll let you go."

I leaned in for a quick hug, and while I had my arms around my shoulder, he gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. It was light and formal, but sweet at the same time.

"Was that okay?" he asked gently, using a soft tone I had never heard Alan Gray use before in my life.

"Yes, that was okay," I affirmed, smiling. "Have a goodnight." I waved as he sped off, and then went inside, feeling the same sensation of enthusiasm I had earlier that day, but I quickly shook it off. I wasn't developing a crush on Alan Gray. That was impossible. Yet the feeling remained.

I tried to forget about it, and instead tried to call my father. He still didn't pick up. I was starting to get concerned. They had been gone quite some time, and it was unlike my father to not answer the phone, especially if he wasn't working. I checked the answering machine for messages, but a big red zero blinked from the screen. I decided maybe it was a good idea to fix Sharon's dress after all. She was already in a horrible mood, and I didn't want to add any fuel to the fire, as much as I couldn't stand Sharon these days.

I went up to my room, and plugged in my sewing machine. It didn't take me long at all to fix the dress. I walked downstairs and stashed the hideous thing back where Sharon had stored it.

"There you go, bitch," I said, shoving it back into hutch. I wanted nothing more than to cut it up into tiny pieces and spread the scraps all over the floor, right where even Sharon was sure to find them. I slammed the cabinet door before I could consider it any longer. The house was still for a moment, so I almost shrieked when my phone rang from the living room. I ran to get it, expecting it to be my father. Instead, to my complete surprise, it was Dawn.

"Hello?" I asked, not sure what to expect. "What's up?" Even though I knew differently, I pretended that our conversation was going to be a normal one.

"I need you to come to California," she croaked hoarsely. "As soon as you can."

"What!" I cried, sitting down. "Dawn, that is ridiculous! I have school! Plus, you're going to have to tell me what you did before I fly to other side of the country." All formality had been dropped. I heard Dawn sigh on the other end of the phone.

"It doesn't matter," she said. She paused for a minute, and then realized I wasn't going to talk until she told me the truth. "Carol caught me selling pot to some kids, and she wants to kick me out and call the cops. She said she doesn't want that going on in her house around Gracie, or some crap like that."

"So what do you want me to do about it?" I asked, a little bewildered. It wasn't as if I would have any sway over Carol. "I don't know how I could help you."

"You can bring back your father," she answered. Her response dropped flatly between us.

"What?" I asked quietly. "What do you mean, bring back my father?"

"Don't you know?" declaimed Dawn. "My mother and your father are coming to California. Both of them. Richard refused to let her come without him. He said she was too worked up to come alone."

"I didn't know that!" I cried. "I've been trying to reach my father all night."

"I don't want him here," she replied bluntly. "He'll only make things worse."

Her answer made my blood boil.

"Listen, just because you were stupid and your father is a snarky ass who is probably going to be completely helpless to you in this situation, don't take it out on my dad," I practically yelled into the phone. "I think you're the one who made things worse."

"I'm sorry," apologized Dawn, sighing again. "I've been through a lot of shit tonight. I didn't mean to insult your dad, but there are enough people involved in it already. I'm almost about to kick myself out, just so I don't have to deal with it anymore."

"Well, I'm sure he is just going to make sure your Mom gets to California safely," I replied primly. "He didn't bring any luggage with him, so I doubt he'll stay long enough to intervene."

"If he does stay longer than that, will you come?" she pleaded into the phone. "I can keep my mom under control, but not both of them. I'll need your help. I have enough trouble with Carol."

"Whatever," I said. It was my turn to sigh. "Just give me a call if anything else happens." I paused. "Where are you staying tonight?"

"Sunny's" she replied. "Carol doesn't want me in the house at all. When my mom comes, I'm going to stay at the hotel with her." Her voice trembled a little. "I'm so stupid."

"You'll be okay," I reassured her. "Carol won't call the cops. She just needs time to cool off, understandably so. At least _she _caught you and not the police. It could have been a lot worse."

"That's what Sunny keeps saying," she said, her voice still again. "She wants me to braid her hair, so I'm gonna go. I'll call you soon." She hung up abruptly before I had a chance to say goodbye.

The last thing I wanted to do was go to California. I'm not a big fan of the state or of Dawn's family. I resolved to stay at home, even if it meant abandoning my stepsister. It wasn't my problem, and like Dawn had implied, it wasn't my father's. California was no more a home to me than Connecticut was to Dawn. I sat down on the couch and decided to stay in and watch a movie by myself. A few days ago I had cried because I had felt so alone; now that I had plenty of people to hang out with, all I wanted was to be by myself. I made a bowl of popcorn and with Tigger on my lap watched _Funny Face_ and_ Sabrina_, two movies guaranteed to put me in a good mood. Afterwards I went to bed, tucking a sleepy Tigger under my arm.

I woke up early next morning and called my father, who actually answered, despite it being so early in California. He apologized for not calling sooner and told me what had happened with Dawn, even though I already knew at that point.

"Are you going to stay long?" I asked, remembering what Dawn had said last night.

"I don't think so," he replied. "I'll probably be back late tonight. I honestly don't want to be here any longer than I have to."

I understood completely. We said goodbye and hung up. I spent the rest of the morning doing my homework, managing to finish most of it by one. The rest of the day was fairly uneventful; I called Claudia to fill her in on the situation with Dawn and my date with Alan. It was a gorgeous autumn day, so we decided to meet in the park.

The park was packed with children, as was expected for a nice Sunday afternoon, one of the few left before it would get cold. Some of the Perkinses' and the Rodowsky's were playing on the jungle gym, the younger ones being carefully watched by their older siblings. Claudia was sitting on the bleachers by the baseball field when I reached the park, leaning back and smoking a cigarette. She looked a little bit like a chic bag lady, wearing an oversized long blue shirt with a hood, a brown broom skirt over blue leggings, and about three multicolor scarves.

"I wanted to go on the swings, but some bitch parent yelled at me for smoking around her children," she scoffed. "They were like fifty feet away too."

"So how was it at Caleb's last night?" I asked, sitting down next to her.

"Caleb got trashed," she said after inhaling slowly. "But he was the only one. I spent the night at his house, holding his head over the toilet." She paused and smirked at me. "He's pretty hot, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I think so," I replied half-heartedly. He wasn't really my type. But then again, I never would have thought Alan Gray would be my type either.

"Of course, he's no Alan," teased Claudia, reading my thoughts. "So, do you think you two are gonna do something again?"

"I don't know," I said casually, shrugging my shoulders in an attempt to look indifferent. "Maybe if he asks. Why are you so adamant about seeing us together?"

Claudia blinked, taken back by my last question.

"I'm not adamant about anything," she retorted, throwing her butt onto the baseball field. "I just thought you and Alan would be cute together. And good for each other, which is something you said to me earlier this week."

"I didn't mean it in a bad away," I contended, defending myself. "I guess I just never would have thought of me and Alan in that way ever before."

As I was talking I noticed a girl with dyed black hair in a pair of tight fitting jeans and a low cut shirt walking our way. As she got closer, I noticed it was Jacqui Grant. Claudia waved as she approached us on the bleachers.

"Hey," said Jacqui, leaning on the railing. I could practically see all the way down her shirt. "You coming or not?"

"Yeah, I'm coming," yawned Claudia, stretching as she got up from the bleacher. "Want to come with us?" I thought I saw Jacqui cast Claudia a sour look, and pursed her lips, which were covered in light pink lipstick and outlined in tacky red lip liner.

"Where are you going?" I asked, getting up. I wasn't really going to go, but I was curious to why she was hanging out with Jacqui, who had dropped out of school last year. Before that she had held the double title of the school's biggest slut and stoner.

"Just out," she said, shrugging her shoulders. Jacqui gave her an all-knowing expression and snickered a little under her breath.

"No thanks," I replied. "I better go home."

Jacqui looked like she was going to say something snotty in return, but thought better of it when she saw Claudia hug me goodbye. They both gave a brief wave and headed towards the direction of a beat up blue car. I knew better than to ask.

I walked slowly home. It was starting to get colder as evening set in, and I could smell someone's fire burning in their fireplace, sending a black trail of chimney smoke into the sky and an equally ominous chill up my spine. I used to enjoy the scent of burning wood in the fall, but not anymore. The fire at the house changed that for me.

It looked like I was going to spend another night home alone. I walked into an empty house and felt Tigger brush up against my leg as I turned to flick on the light. I turned on most of the lights downstairs, and the hall light upstairs, like I do most nights when I'm home alone. In my room, I sat down at my desk and tried to finish my homework. I sighed. It seemed like every week there was more and more work to keep up with. I opened up my Physics book and tried to concentrate on the third chapter. About halfway through a section on the electromagnetic spectrum, I heard my text message alarm go off. I picked it up and saw a message from Alan written across the screen: hd a grt time ystrdy – c u shcl tomrow ;-).

Even though I hated abbreviations even in text messages, it was a nice way to end the weekend.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Very early in the morning, I woke up to the sound of someone opening the front door and stumbling over the stoop, even though I had left the hall light on before going to sleep. I sat straight up in bed, my heart pounding at the sudden noise. It had started to rain around ten and I had been tossing and turning fitfully for most of the night listening to the drops on the roof. I had just managed to fall asleep before the crash. I got up and quietly opened my door and peered over the top of the railing, even though I knew there was no use in being quiet, as I was the only one who had been asleep. I saw my father, rubbing his temples tiredly and staggering slowly into the kitchen.

"Hey," I whispered, walking down the stairs, wrapping my arms around my chest to keep out the unexpected chill upon leaving the warmth of my bed. It had gotten quite cold over the night, and I was only wearing an oversized t-shirt and leggings. My father was busy wiping the condensation from his glasses with his shirt sleeve.

"I hope I didn't wake you up," he said, putting his glasses back on. He looked exhausted, which was understandable, seeing as he had just taken a six hour flight across the country. "The front porch was slippery."

"No, it's fine, I wasn't sleeping," I lied, suppressing a yawn. The kitchen clock read two a.m. "So what happened over there?"

"I should probably tell you everything in the morning, when it's not so late," he said, filling a glass with water from the faucet. "It's a very messy and complicated situation."

"I don't think I'm going to fall asleep for awhile, anyway," I remarked, my curiosity trumping my sleepiness. "But I understand if you're tired."

"No, its okay," he answered, sitting down in a kitchen chair. "To make a long story short, this is not the first time things of this nature have happened with Dawn. Carol's obviously upset, and it seems like Jack has done very little to discipline Dawn, or get the help she needs. Last time it happened Carol vowed to kick Dawn out, and the problem is that she plans to stick to her word."

"Can she legally do that?" I asked. After all, it was Jack's home, and he was Dawn's parent, not Carol.

"Well, technically Carol doesn't have guardianship over Dawn or Jeff, and therefore has no legal responsibility to either minor, which makes for a convoluted scenario," replied my father, using his best lawyer voice. "She also has partial ownership of the house and the well-being of her own child to consider, which could make for a compelling court case, if Carol were to take it that far. But I doubt it will. I think the solution agreed upon was that Dawn should come to live with us, but everything is still up in the air at this point."

"So Dawn might live in Connecticut again?" I asked incredulously, my jaw nearly hitting the floor. I think Dawn would take a park bench in LA over having to live in Stoneybrook for anytime longer than a week.

"Well, that's another issue. Dawn is adamantly opposed to leaving California. She claims that it is her home and refuses to live anywhere else," my father yawned, stretching his arms over his head. "She may not have a choice when the time comes. I don't necessarily agree with Carol's actions, but I can certainly understand where she is coming from. If you ever behaved in the same way, I would not be so lenient as Jack and Sharon, that's for sure. Not that you would ever act like that."

"Yeah," I mumbled, shifting nervously and a little guiltily. While I would never sell or even _try_ pot, I wonder what my father would do if he found out that I been drunk only two nights earlier. I quickly changed the subject. "When is Sharon coming back?"

"She took the rest of the week off from work and plans to stay in California until everything smoothes over," he answered. "I think she's going to pull Dawn out of school for a few days, and look into getting her some counseling, or something along those lines."

"It will probably do her good," I said whole-heartedly. It had certainly helped me. Sometimes I wish I had never stopped going to Dr. Reese.

"In any case, it's going to be a long and bumpy process," he responded, looking very tired as he filled his glass once again with water. "And you should probably get to bed. I nearly forgot it was a Sunday night."

I agreed. I hugged my father goodnight, and trudged up to my bedroom. It was truly sad about Dawn, but I couldn't help feeling slightly thrilled at the prospect of having a whole week without Sharon. It was almost like having a mini-vacation.

The next morning I woke up to the sound of real rain combined with the sound of the recorded one coming from my alarm clock.

"Shut the hell up," I muttered at my alarm, swatting the snooze button with surprising strength for someone who was still half asleep, knocking it off my night stand completely. I rolled over and groaned; my body stiff from lack of sleep. I could feel a grouchy mood starting before I even opened my eyes.

Even after my shower I still felt far from refreshed. Glancing into the mirror, I looked like someone who had gotten four hours of sleep, appropriately enough. I decided today would be a good one to wear makeup. I normally don't bother with cosmetics on normal school days, but I make exceptions for days where I look particularly horrendous. I applied a light coat of cover-up and blush, and brushed my eyelids with plum eye shadow. It looked nice, but casual enough for school.

Downstairs, I saw my father had left a pot of coffee on for me, knowing that I was going to be tired and thus cranky that morning. I poured myself a cup and had a slice of toast before beginning my walk to school. I knew better than to expect Kristy to pick me up after our last conversation.

I grabbed my umbrella and put on my khaki trench coat, and headed into the soppy mess outside. The sidewalks were matted with clumps of wet leaves, their once vibrant color now darkened and dulled by the steady drizzle of rain. I gingerly walked around puddles and the pink earthworms that had twisted their way up from the ground. I was supposed to meet Claudia at her home, seeing as she lived right along the way, but I wasn't shocked when she wasn't ready by the time I got to her house. Claudia's mother let me in.

"Come inside," she said pleasantly, taking my wet umbrella from me and shaking it off on the porch. "Don't worry about tracking mud in the kitchen, I'm going to mop later today anyway. Are you hungry? Do you want anything to eat or drink?"

"No thanks, I had breakfast already," I said, unsure of how to respond to Mrs. Kishi's perpetual cheeriness. Maybe she was on some kind of medication that made her overly happy.

"Claudia should be ready soon," she said, offering me a chair at the kitchen table and pulling one out for her to sit in. "How are your father and stepmother?"

"Good," I responded, not wanting to go into much more detail than that. "Busy at work, but other than that, they're fine."

"Hopefully not too busy," chirped Mrs. Kishi, folding her hands at the table. "One should always make time for family."

If I were Kristy, I would have asked what she was busy doing while her daughter was cutting class and getting high, but instead I agreed with a simple nod and a smile. Luckily Claudia came running down the stairs, hurriedly shoving papers and things into her green satchel bag that doubled as a backpack. She had a large studio portfolio tucked under one arm.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," breezed Claudia, stopping on the bottom stair to lace up her black combat boots. She had paired them with black leggings, a red and blue tie dyed tunic shirt, and a black zip up hoodie. She looked about as tired and grumpy as me. She pulled out a box of garbage bags from under the kitchen sink and wrapped her portfolio in two of them, sealing them with a large strip of duct tape.

"I'm not taking any chances," she said, ripping off a piece of tape with her teeth. "Watercolors plus rain equals bad news bears."

"I wish you had at least taken half the care with your other homework, instead of shoving it in your bag," chided Mrs. Kishi, her pleasant exterior completely dropped. She sighed. "How can I expect you to pass anything when you don't even eat breakfast?"

Claudia grabbed a package of poptarts from off the counter and making a bratty face, waved them at her mother.

"This good enough?" she asked in a haughty tone, gathering up her things. "I don't have time to stop and eat, or I'm going to make Mary Anne late." She stormed out the door, barely saying goodbye to her mother. I waved and wished her a good day before making an awkward exit behind Claudia.

"Has your mother been having a lot of mood swings lately?" I asked, running to catch up with Claudia, who had rushed far ahead, clutching what now looked like a large black tarp close to her body. I offered her my umbrella, and we both took shelter underneath, continuing at her fast pace.

"Yeah, bitchy, naggy and super strict," she scoffed. "She told me that if I don't pass my next English test, I have to quit the play. Fuck that! If I did that, Heather Epstein would take over my role, and I could not subject the school to that torture."

We got to school fairly quickly, considering we were practically running, and I shook off my umbrella as we entered the main doors.

"God, I hate the fucking rain!" she cried, shaking out her long wet hair. "I'm going to go drop this off in the art room before something bad happens to it. Then I'm going to have my morning smoke." She smirked. "If my mom doesn't think I can pass without having a good breakfast, she should see me if I don't get to have a cigarette. I'd have failed out by now!"

With that she turned and walked down the hallway, holding delicately onto her portfolio still wrapped in the garbage bag. About halfway down, she turned around suddenly and yelled back to me.

"Oh yeah, tickets for the play go on sale today, so you better hurry up and get them before all the best seats are taken!" she called, walking backwards.

I waved in response and made my way to homeroom. The morning slowly progressed from there. I was a little nervous about lunch, as the last time Kristy and I had a huge fight, I ended up eating alone. But I planned to get there early and claim a seat at the table before she could even attempt to bar me from it. Besides, I doubted Abby would abandon me, and Tawny was more my friend than hers. Plus there was always Alan or Claudia if Kristy became too intolerable.

As lunch period rolled around, I practically rushed out of class to the cafeteria without even stopping at my locker. I was one of the first on line for lunch, and the second one seated at the table. Abby always seemed to get to lunch before anyone else.

"Hey, you really did a number on Thomas," she said, peeling back the lid on her pudding cup. "She was practically fuming when she called me on Saturday, and wouldn't say a word to me during the ride to school today. She almost didn't let me in the car, except I held onto the bike rack and refused to let go, even when she started driving."

She punched a hole in the top of her juice carton with her straw, while the Shillabar twins took their seat next to her. They eyed me coolly and muttered a hello. I knew Kristy had likely gotten to them, but at least they weren't ignoring me. Tawny soon joined us, and we started a boring but safe conversation on the school's decision to pave the small basketball court and turn it into a parking lot. It was a few minutes well into the period, but Kristy still hadn't arrived.

"Where is Kristy today?" asked Tawny innocently, unaware of our most recent fight. "Is she sick or something?"

"She's having an emergency meeting with the officers of Student Government," answered Miranda, peeling the sticker off her apple and avoiding eye contact with me. "Something about the food drive or the ball, or both, I think."

"All the officers have lunch this period?" asked Tawny. "I thought some of them were seniors."

"I guess she got them special permission to leave class," replied Mariah, shrugging her shoulders.

"Sweet!" cried Abby through a large mouthful of chocolate pudding. "I wish I got to leave class for my extracurricular crap!"

"You do!" I exclaimed, giggling. "You get to skip all the time because of games. Besides, you know nothing gets in the way of Kristy and her emergency meetings."

Abby and I both laughed, while Miranda and Mariah exchanged a glance. I felt someone come up from behind and place a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and saw Alan standing behind me.

"What are you laughing at?" he said, taking the empty seat next to me that was usually reserved for Kristy. Not anymore. He helped himself to a spoonful of my pudding that I wasn't planning on eating anyway.

I saw Mariah and Miranda scrunch their nose in disgust, making me want to roll my eyes. I think they still believed that boys have cooties.

"Alan, what are doing here?" asked Abby, grabbing her own pudding in protection. "You never could take a hint, could you?"

I flashed Abby a nasty look, and turned to Alan.

"Don't listen to her," I said, laughing her rude remark off. "She's just upset because she didn't cause bruising in both of Dori's eyes." Sure enough, Dori had come to school with a normal looking nose, but the power of Abby's punch and the amount of swelling had left her with a right black eye.

"Hah," snickered Alan. "You should have aimed for her mouth. Then maybe she'd have shut up for a few days."

Abby smiled and shook her head in spite of herself, while the other three girls bombarded her with questions about Dori, realizing she had been the one who had given the bitchiest girl in school a black eye. While they talked, Alan and I had our own side conversation.

"So, what are you doing tomorrow, at about six?" he asked, looking at me expectantly.

"Nothing," I answered truthfully.

"How about I pick you up at your house around that time, then?" he said, getting up from his chair. "I was going to ask you to go out today, but riding a moped in the rain is not exactly fun or safe, especially with two people."

"Tomorrow's fine," I replied, feeling my face grow hot as I became well aware of the other girls blatantly staring at me and Alan. "See you then."

"See you then," he repeated, ruffling my hair as he left our table. I turned to my gaping friends. "What are you guys looking at?"

"Ew, Mary Anne, Alan Gray?" shrieked Mariah, the first direct thing she had said to me all period.

"You are not going out on a date with him, are you?" bellowed Abby, looking at me as if I was a complete stranger. "You and Alan on a date?"

"What's so bad about him?" asked Tawny, confused at the other's reactions. "I think he's pretty cute."

"No, no, no," cried Abby, shaking her head. "You don't know him like we do. Alan is a pest and an annoyance, and has been since day one." Miranda and Mariah nodded in agreement. "He's obviously hoodwinked poor Mary Anne into going on a date with him, somehow."

"He is not that bad at all," I explained to Tawny, annoyed. "He's changed a lot. Besides it's technically our second date."

I thought Abby's jaw was going to unhinge and fall to the ground.

"Oh my gosh," she murmured, holding her hand up to her mouth in shock. "You _like_ him!" She burst into giggles. "_You_ like Alan!" For some reason this was the funniest thing on earth to her.

"C, mon, grow up," I muttered, failing to find the humor.

Mariah and Miranda started to laugh with her and even Tawny had an amused smirk on her face. I knew I was pink all over, and if there's one thing I hate more than being the center of attention, it's being laughed at when I clearly am not partaking in the joke.

"I have to go," I said abruptly and lamely. "I need to get stuff out of my locker before next period."

I grabbed my tray and hurried away from the giggles of the other girls. Once in the hallway, I exited using the side entrance next to the cafeteria to get to my locker on the other side of the school. Being a junior, I knew all the best routes to avoid hall monitors, and seeing as I didn't have a hall pass, the only safe way was to go outside.

The rain felt surprisingly nice on my flushed face as I dashed across the long grassy courtyard, my shoes sinking into the wet ground. As I ran, I passed the student government office and caught sight of Kristy in the window. She wasn't presiding bossily over a meeting, like I had expected, but was instead sitting alone at a desk, eating a sandwich and hunched over a notebook, her long dark hair touching the pages. For a minute I forgot that it was pouring and I was getting soaked, and stared at Kristy diligently reading her notes in the empty office, completely unaware that someone was watching. I felt a sharp pang of guilt watching her eat lunch alone, and the fact that she had presumably lied about the meeting just to avoid the sight of me. Yet it seemed incredibly unlike Kristy to be the one to back down and timidly hide in a corner, playing the passive role. That was something I would do, not her.

The thought passed through my mind as I made my way to the other side of the courtyard, leaving behind the somewhat disturbing image of Kristy. Was she actually afraid to face me? It seemed too far fetched to believe, yet the evidence seemed to suggest the contrary.

The rest of the day seemed to go by in a haze, and halfway home I remembered that I had completely forgotten to order tickets for Claudia's play. I wasn't too bothered by it, because I hadn't asked Abby or Alan what day they would like to go. The fact that I was mentally including Alan in all of my upcoming activities slightly unnerved me. We had gone out on one date, but were technically not dating. Besides, until my embarrassment at lunch I had refused to admit even to myself that I had liked him. I had no clue what would actually happen between us. My world had seemed to go topsy-turvy lately, what with me liking Alan, Sharon leaving temporarily, and Kristy acting scared of me. It was actually sort of amazing.

Once I got home I decided to make a thick hearty stew considering it was such a miserable day, and added large chunks of beef to the crock pot without any worry over vegetarian backlash. While it simmered, I started an English paper that was due at the end of the week. At about five, I received a call from Claudia.

"Hey, what's up?" I said, typing a sentence.

"My stupid English test, that's what," she grumbled. "I get off rehearsal in about an hour. You don't know anything about _Lord of the Flies_, do you?"

"Yeah, I had to read it last year for school," I replied. "How about you come over after rehearsal, have dinner with me and I'll help you study."

"That sounds great," she said, sighing in relief. "I don't even know what it's about. I was just gonna sparknote it, but Mrs. Jennings always asks such detailed questions."

I didn't expect her to have read it, but I was completely baffled as to how Claudia could have gone through class without even knowing the basic plot of the book. But I didn't dwell on it, and at about quarter to six I heard a knock on the door.

"Hey," she called, letting herself in. "We got out early today, because they had to work out some technical kinks and couldn't do with us actors hanging around." She wiped her boots on the welcome mat.

"Have something to eat and we can study in the kitchen," I said. I ladled out two bowls of stew for each of us and Claudia threw her bag down on the table. "You brought your book, right?"

"Ummm," said Claudia, beginning to search through her bag. She dumped its entire contents onto the table, some of the junk spilling onto the floor. Nowhere in the mess did I see a book. "Guess not." She picked up the stuff that was on the floor and shoved it back into her purse.

"I think I have a copy somewhere," I replied. I went upstairs and looked at my bookcase, but didn't see it there. I rummaged through my desk and found my English notebook from last year, which had a whole section dedicated to the _Lord of the Flies_. I perused the bookcase in the guest bedroom, and finally saw it tucked away on the last shelf. I grabbed it and ran downstairs.

"You know, you'd probably actually like this book, seeing as it's about a bunch of school children stranded on a deserted island," I said as I walked down the staircase. "Although I think you and Dawn handled things much better than these boys."

As I walked into the kitchen, I saw my father getting himself a bowl of stew.

"Hey dad," I said, smiling. "I didn't even hear you come in."

He returned the smile, but he had a very strange expression on his face. I didn't understand, until I noticed exactly what was sprawled across our kitchen table. Besides copious amounts of junk food wrappers and random scraps of papers, there was also a pack of cigarettes, something that looked suspiciously like a flattened joint, and a condom. I felt my face grow pale. My father didn't say anything else, but went into the living room and turned the television on, which was extremely unusual as my father never watched TV. I sat quietly down next to Claudia, who was eating her stew, oblivious to everything.

"Claudia," I whispered, nudging her. "You're going to get me in trouble with all this stuff out in the open. Why do you have a condom, anyway?"

"I'm prepared for everything," she said back casually. "I'm not currently having sex, but if the occasion arises"-She giggled at her play on words- "I'll have one handy. I'm not going to be stupid about it. Besides, this junk is tame anyway. You're lucky he didn't see some of my other stuff."

"What other stuff?" I asked. I was tired of turning a blind eye to something that was potentially serious. "Do you do other drugs?"

She shrugged.

"Not really," she replied casually. "But I'll try anything once." She opened my copy of _Lord of the Flies_, and starting thumbing through the pages. "Okay, so what do I have to know about this thing and what does it have to do with flies?"

We spent the next hour going over the entire premise of the book, with me mostly identifying important passages, themes, etc. and pointing them out to Claudia. I could guess at what the essay topics were likely to be, so I helped her draw up a few outlines to go over that night. As long as she didn't forget everything, she would likely pass, even without reading the book.

"Maybe I should speed-read this tonight before I go to bed," she said, as she gathered up her outlines. "It doesn't seem all that bad."

"Yeah, that would probably be good," I answered. I handed her my notebook. "Here, you better take this. I took good notes last year."

"Thanks," she said. I showed her to the front door. "Oh, and I wouldn't worry about your dad. It's not as if it was your stuff."

"Yeah," I replied, still not reassured. "Well, have a goodnight. And good luck."

"Yup," she answered. She walked out the door and then quickly turned around. "If my mom calls you, can you tell her we're still studying and I'm in the bathroom or something? I have to run a few errands before I go home, and I might not be back until late."

"Okay," I sighed. "Just call me if you need anything."

Claudia smiled and stepped out into the rain, which was barely at a drizzle now. I shut the door and went back inside, where my father was cleaning out his bowl in the sink. I didn't say anything, but sheepishly cleared the table.

"How did the studying go?" he asked, wiping his hands on a dish towel.

"Fine," I said, not looking him in the eyes. "I think she'll pass her test."

"I think you know I was a little upset when I came and saw some…unsavory things sprawled across my table," he affirmed, getting straight to the point.

"I didn't know she had those things in her purse," I said, getting defensive. I was lying. I knew damn well that Claudia smoked and did pot, but I didn't see how I should be blamed for it.

"I'm not mad at you. Or Claudia, for that matter, and nobody's in trouble," my father answered calmly. He sat down at the kitchen table and I prepared myself for a serious discussion. "I believe you. I just don't want to see you or anyone else fall into the same kind of trouble as Dawn."

"I know," I said quietly. I went to the sink and started to rinse the dishes from dinner and placed them in the dishwasher.

"I'm glad that you're helping Claudia, but I don't think it's a good idea if you two spend too much time together outside of school," he said. "She's obviously doing some dangerous things, and I would hate to see you pressured into anything you wouldn't want to do."

"I wouldn't do anything I wouldn't want to," I responded a little snappishly. "I'm not stupid."

"I never said you were," he said, either ignoring my attitude or failing to notice it. "But no more hanging out with Claudia outside of the house. I'd be a bad parent to let you hang out with people who I knew were doing drugs."

"That's not fair," I whined. I sounded immature and knew it. "I'm not doing drugs and I've never seen Claudia do them. We don't do stuff like that together." I tried to sound as convincing as possible. "I'm helping her stop."

I felt a little sick at my last comment. If anything, I was an enabler.

"I'm very proud of you," said my father. "But I need to think about your well being."

I didn't say anything else, and my father quietly walked out of the room while I slammed the dishwasher door shut. I ran upstairs to my room and closed the door, on the verge of fuming. I wasn't going to stop hanging out with Claudia, regardless of what my father said. If it meant a lie, I would tell a lie. I had gotten used to that lately.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

The next day at lunch I was not surprised to see Kristy sitting at the table, although I wasn't altogether happy about it. Even if Kristy had been temporarily apprehensive about being around me, I knew deep down it was merely fleeting. I had walked to school with Claudia, despite what my father had said, although I kept looking over my shoulder every five seconds to make sure he didn't somehow magically appear behind me. I had cooled off considerably after storming out of the kitchen, to the point where I was able to tell him goodnight like a mature adult instead of an insolent child. Claudia had invited me to have lunch at the Argo's with her that day, but I decided against it. Given my father's command, I thought it best not to skip any more periods-even lunch- with Claudia anymore, at least for awhile.

Instead, I sat down cautiously in between Abby and Kristy, who completely ignored me and primly squirted a packet of ketchup onto her hot dog and fries, chin deliberately high in the air. Abby chatted incessantly about nothing, while Kristy and I both half listened and said nothing in turn. Even when Abby left to go get more fries, we sat in chilly silence, until Miranda sat down across from us.

"Hello," Kristy nodded, sounding a little too curt and yet polite at the sometime. It was less of a greeting directed at Miranda and more of a snub directed at me.

I suppressed an eye rolling and instead concentrated on keeping my own bite of hot dog down. It tasted like mustard flavored rubber. I quickly wrapped the rest of the roll in my napkin.

"So guess what?" she continued excitedly to Miranda, focusing all of her attention on her. "The Student Government decided that admission for the dance would be a bag of canned goods. If you don't bring in at least five items, you're denied a ticket. We- well I- figured people would be more willing to donate if it meant admission to the Fall Ball." She leaned back in her chair, looking very proud of herself.

"What if you're one of the students in need whose family the drive is trying to help?" I asked, perhaps a little too contentedly. I couldn't help it. Kristy was far too smug for her own good. "Are you going to deny them a ticket because they can't afford to bring in a bag of canned goods?"

"Of course not," snapped Kristy, screwing up her face in contempt. "We're going to make it quite clear that if someone can't spare the food, they can come to Ms. O'Rourke and privately explain their situation and still receive a ticket."

"What's to prevent someone from lying?" I challenged. I looked Kristy square in her dark brown eyes. I wanted a fight. "What if it's the last day tickets are on sale and there's a kid who has more than enough food at home and just forgot to bring in canned goods, but still wants to go to the dance? He could lie just to get a ticket."

"That's so stupid," snorted Kristy, her eyes regarding me through mean little slits. "We all know who has money and who doesn't in this school. Besides, even if someone did stoop that low, we're still better off than if we hadn't asked for donations in the first place. Although hopefully _some_ people still have morals." She practically spat the last sentence in my face.

"Whatever," I muttered, feeling a sense of defeat. Kristy had won the argument, just like she won most arguments. "I'll be sure to bring a whole carload of cans, so everyone can be certain that _I_ still have morals."

"Hah," smirked Kristy with quiet satisfaction. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Oh, you are utterly ridiculous!" I cried, standing up, grabbing my bag and tray. "Obviously, we can't even sit together at the same table and act like civilized human beings, so I'll do us both a favor and find somewhere else to sit. And it won't be alone in the Student Government office, I can tell you that."

I watched Kristy's smug expression slide off her face as I flounced away in defiance. I hadn't meant to say that last part. I felt a little guilty, but that feeling was quickly washed away when I remembered all the nasty things she had said to me over the last couple of days. I spotted Alan, Logan and their friends and sat with them for the remainder of the period. I was pretty quiet and distant, which Alan did not fail to notice.

"Everything okay?" he asked, after the bell had rung and the table had mostly cleared except for Alan and Logan. "You haven't been that quiet since the seventh grade."

"Everything's fine," I answered brightly, not really wanting to talk about it at the moment. "I'm just tired."

"Well, take a nap before six," he said, smiling. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw Logan scowl. "Oh, and it might be a good idea to wear comfortable clothes that you don't mind getting dirty."

"Okay," I said a little uneasily. Usually those words imply something athletic or strenuous, which was not my idea of fun at all. "See you then."

I thought about maybe canceling, as much as I wanted to see Alan, but instead I put on a pair of old jeans, my pair of gray and lavender Puma's that I almost never wear and a gray zip-up. Dusk was already fading, and I was a little worried about what we were going to do that required comfortable and presumably outdoor attire in the dark. I prayed he wasn't bringing me somewhere to play flashlight tag or manhunt or something like that. I always ended up tripping over something or running through a pricker bush. I was a little dismayed when I opened the door and saw him standing there with a flashlight.

"Hey," I said nervously. "Do I need a flashlight too?"

"No, one's fine," he answered. "Are you all set to go?"

"Yeah," I replied, a little hesitantly. "Where are we going?"

"Don't look so worried," he said laughing. "It's nothing scary, I promise."

That didn't answer my question, but I didn't say anything else. I hopped onto the back of Alan's moped and we sped off down the street. I actually completely enjoyed the ride this time. After a somewhat longish drive, we ended up near the woods by the Old Fairgrounds. I had never actually been in these woods before, and the only people I heard did go in them were drug dealers and gang members. Not that Stoneybrook has much or any of either.

"Right this way," said Alan, leading me up the path, which was a steady climb upward. I followed, if a bit reluctantly.

"Did you ever hear the story of the girl who was murdered up here twenty years ago?" I asked, picking my way through some shrubbery that dangled over the edge of the path.

"You're not going to get murdered," replied Alan. "At least not by me. I don't know about the guy with the chainsaw and hockey mask I saw run in here before us."

"Ha-ha," I snickered. I tripped over a fallen tree branch and nearly fell flat on my face, but Alan caught me by the arm just in time.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, steadying myself. Alan still held onto my arm. Without saying anything, he kissed me quickly on the lips and continued to walk up the path without saying anything. I followed, a little stunned. Alan was wearing a backpack full of something that kept clinking, sounding suspiciously like a couple bottles of beer. After a little while, I could see a clearing ahead through the trees.

"We're here," said Alan, stepping through parted trees into the clearing. Following him, my breath caught in my throat as I saw the beautiful view stretching before me. We were on the edge of a small cliff hanging over the ocean, roaring serenely in the dark. Yet we could still see most of downtown Stoneybrook, which twinkled like a string of Christmas lights. The Stoneybrook Lighthouse beamed a large shaft of light onto the ocean.

"It's gorgeous up here," I cried. "I didn't even know this place existed."

"Me, Logan and a bunch of other guys found it one day during middle school," he explained. "Some older kids were up here getting high. It's a good place to get stoned."

There was good evidence of that. Besides the ashy remnants of a fire pit surrounded by logs and large stones turned seats, there was an array of beer cans and cigarette butts scattered across the ground. Yet it didn't distract from the breath-taking view. It was a good place to sit and think, even without getting stoned.

Alan offered me a camping chair that someone had left, and sat down on a large boulder. He opened his backpack and pulled out two bottles of Heineken, confirming the source of the clinking. There were four more in his bag. He opened one and offered me the other.

"No thanks," I said, waving it away. I wasn't too keen about drinking on a school night. "Are you going to be okay to drive if you drink?"

"I don't know, I might have to drink half and save the rest in my purse," he laughed. I must have looked pretty unamused, as he quickly added: "No, I'll be fine. It usually takes at least four for me to catch a buzz. But just to be safe, you better help me drink them."

"Is that why you took me up here? To get me drunk?" I asked, trying to remain stony faced. It didn't work, and a smirk played at the corners of my lips.

"Oh no, you found me out," he exclaimed, handing me an opened bottle of Heineken. "Oh well, party on."

"Cheers," I said a little hesitantly, and took a sip. The bitter taste still made me shudder a little bit. I don't think I would ever acquire a taste for beer. Yet as Alan and I sat and talked, I somehow managed to polish off three bottles in an hour. I became more animated as my buzz increased, and I felt the same warm and fuzzy feeling I had Friday evening, before I became sick.

"You sure can put it away," he said appreciatively as I placed my third empty in his backpack. "Do you like Heineken?"

"Actually, I hate it," I said, taking a seat next to him. It was getting a little chilly and Alan had managed to get a fire started after some struggle. "Beer is gross. I only drink it fast so I don't have to taste it."

"I didn't know you hated beer," he said. "I would have brought something else. What do you like?"

"You," I slurred, not realizing what I had said until the words left my mouth.

Even though it was my dark, I knew my face was so red it was probably radioactive. I turned away, but Alan slowly pulled my face toward his. My eyes locked with his, and he slipped an arm around my waist. For a moment his lips lingered in front of mine, during which I practically melted. He softly started kissing my cheeks and my neck, before moving to my lips. His kiss was sweet, and he wasn't aggressive like some other boys I've dated. He didn't push me farther than I wanted to go or try to shove his tongue down my throat. We made out for about half an hour, until I looked up for a moment to glance at my watch. It was nearing nine o'clock.

"I should probably go," I said. "My dad's probably wondering where I am."

"Sure," he replied. "This is about the time the wolves come out anyway. And the gangsters. And the serial killers."

I rolled my eyes, but we held hands the whole walk out of the woods.

As we rode up Bradford Court, I could see every single light on in the house. As soon as we pulled up in front of the house, I saw my father pull back the curtain and peer out the window. He must have been waiting for me.

"I would kiss you goodnight, but your father's looking at us," said Alan, taking the helmet from me as I got off the moped. "And I'm pretty bold, but not that bold."

"Good thinking," I laughed.

My father was unabashedly watching me like a hawk from the window. You'd think he'd at least conceal the fact that he was blatantly spying on me.

"I had a good time tonight." Alan fiddled with the strap on the helmet. "I've been having a really good time with you lately."

"Me too," I mumbled. I felt a blush creeping into my face. "So are we, ummm, you know?" The words stuck a little in my throat. "A couple?"

"Yeah, if you want to be," he said, looking at the ground. It was funny to see Alan actually act shy about something. It was actually pretty adorable. "I mean, I want to be…"

"Yeah, I want to be too," I interrupted, blushing even more. I really wanted to kiss him, but my dad was still gawking at the pair of us. Instead I settled for a bit of an awkward hug. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you later," he said, smiling. He rode off down the street.

I made my way up the front steps and upon opening the front door, I saw my father waiting for me in the hallway.

"Where have you been?" he asked calmly, but sternly. I knew that tone. It meant that I was in big trouble. "You left no note, and I called your phone, but as soon as I heard it ringing in your bedroom, I knew you hadn't brought it with you."

Oops.

"I'm sorry, I completely forgot to write a note," I stammered. "I didn't realize I was going to be out this long."

"Where did you go?" he asked, his voice raising a little. "And who was that boy?"

"That was Alan Gray," I said, getting a little huffy. "You know him. And we were just at his house, watching a movie." Without knowing it, I had taken a step back. Maybe because I was afraid he would smell the beer on my breath.

"I don't ever want to see you on that scooter again," he said. "It can't be safe."

"It's not a scooter, it's a moped," I replied, testily. "And of course it's safe. I wore a helmet"

"Regardless, you are grounded this weekend," my father said firmly. "I will not tolerate such irresponsibility in this house."

"I can't be grounded this weekend!" I shouted, feeling my face grow hot. "It's Abby's birthday! She's one of my closest friends! I can't miss her party."

"We'll see," he said, still staying calm. "For now, you're grounded. How do you think I feel? I come home to an empty house with no note, and no way of reaching you, only to find you out with some boy? And why do you smell like smoke?"

"His parents have a fire pit," I lied quickly. If my father was mad now, I didn't want to see him after I told him I had been drinking beer and making out with a boy in the woods.

My father eyed me suspiciously, but he accepted my story. I apologized profusely for not leaving a note, and he was willing to lighten my punishment. As long as I came straight home the next two days, I would be ungrounded for the weekend. Needless to say, the next two days were pretty uneventful. Except for French Club and Harvard Model UN meetings, I came home immediately after school. Sharon was still in California, which at least compensated for a boring midweek. At school, I completely ignored Kristy. I ate lunch with Alan on Wednesday, and the next day I sat with Claudia. I was surprised when Abby joined us.

"I'm sick of Thomas," she said, biting into an apple. "She won't shut up about my party this weekend. She's threatening to call my mother _and_ my grandmother _and _myGreat Aunt Miriam. _Oi,gevald!__"_

Abby had gone ahead with her plans for a huge kegger, and had invited almost the entire class to her house tomorrow night. Claudia had given her the name of someone who would supply her with alcohol. For almost two days straight, she had talked nonstop about it.

"The bad part is she's still planning on coming," continued Abby, stretching across the ground. It was actually a nice day, possibly the last warm day of the season, so we decided to have lunch in the courtyard. "I don't know why. Maybe she'll collect everyone's keys at the door and hand out juice boxes or something."

"Hah, sounds like something she would do," laughed Claudia. She pulled out a cigarette and started to light it up.

"Hey, you can't smoke that out here," I cried. "One of the monitors…"

"Ah, no one's looking right now," she said, lighting it up anyway. "The monitor just left to go write up Rick Chow for throwing a ham sandwich at the main office window. She won't be back for a few minutes."

"Anyway, I think I might make jell-o shots tonight," said Abby. "Do you guys want to come over and help?"

"Can't," I answered. "I'm still grounded."

"Me neither," said Claudia, puffing away. "I've got a math test tomorrow. And since I'm currently failing, I guess I'd better cram tonight."

I had promised Claudia earlier that week that I would help her study. Not that I could really help. My math skills were pretty atrocious, but I'd at least try to tutor Claudia. My father had given me permission to help her study, as long as it was in the house and he was present. At about six thirty that evening Claudia came over, but there was no sign of my father. I decided that it wasn't my fault that he couldn't get home at a decent hour, so I let Claudia inside. I wasn't going to sit on the front porch with her like I used to have to do with Logan. After about a half an hour of struggling, we hadn't made much progress.

"So from what I understand," I muttered, looking at a particularly difficult equation. "Ummmm…."

"That you understand about as much as me?" said Claudia, smiling.

It was true. I had somehow forgotten most of trigonometry.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I guess I'm not much help."

"Don't worry about it," she answered, looking totally relaxed. I don't know how she could be so calm. If I were failing a subject, I would be a complete nervous wreck. "Let's go watch TV or something. I need a break"

"Okay," I answered, giving in easily. I was done with math for the evening too. Plus, I was beginning to wonder where my father was. Claudia went into the living room and turned on some reality show that I had never seen before. I joined her, and after a few minutes I heard my dad's car pull up in the driveway. Yet when the front door opened after a few moments, it wasn't my father's voice I heard.

"Ugh, I can't believe they delayed the flight due to a storm that never happened," complained Sharon from the hallway, her voice invading the living room.

I sighed. My vacation was over. I begrudgingly got up and decided to do the polite thing and meet her in the hall. I heard my father talking from the porch as I gave Sharon an unenthusiastic hello.

"Hi, Da.." I started, when the front door opened, but I immediately stopped short. Instead of my father, my tall, blonde stepsister appeared in the doorway.

"Hey, Mary Anne," said Dawn, lugging a suitcase over the threshold.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

"Hi, Dawn," I stammered, trying not to look confused. "I didn't know you were coming."

I shot my dad a quizzical look. I was pretty surprised that he hadn't called ahead of time. A warning would have been nice. Dawn looked pretty much the same as she had the last time I had seen her, if only a little bit more tired. Her long blonde hair was a little scraggly, but still pretty. She was wearing a pair of holey jeans and a belted cardigan sweater over a blue t-shirt with some band name that I had never heard of printed on it. A green scarf was tied and knotted loosely around her neck.

"Hey, I didn't know you were coming," said Claudia, coming up behind me. She was munching on a Snicker's bar, which seemed to have magically appeared in her hand. "How are you?"

"Okay," she answered, resting her suitcase against the hallway wall. "A little tired."

"Maybe you should help Dawn bring her things upstairs," said my father, glancing at Claudia sideways. "That is, if you're done studying."

"Ummm, yeah, I think we're done," I answered, looking at Claudia. "I think you'll do okay on the test tomorrow."

"Hah, we'll see," laughed Claudia, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Thanks for the help, Mary Anne."

"Don't mention it," I mumbled, seeing her to the door. "I'll call you later."

I turned to Dawn and she sort of shrugged awkwardly, and started to lug her suitcase up the stairs. I grabbed her carry-on bag and followed behind her. We went straight into the guest room, which also served as a bedroom for Dawn on the infrequent occasion of a visit.

"Um, I'll go get you an extra pillow from the linen closet," I said, standing a little awkwardly in the doorway.

"Oh, thanks," she answered, throwing her suitcase in the middle of the floor. She surveyed the room, looking it up and down. "Hasn't changed much, has it?"

"Nope," I replied. "We don't have guests often."

"Oh, yuck, I always hated this comforter," she said, flopping down on the bed.

"Well, I didn't pick it out," I answered, taking a seat next to her. The flowery pattern did look like it belonged in a ninety year old grandmother's house. "Do you think you'll be here long enough to get a new one?"

"Why, am I cramping your style already?" she chuckled, kicking off her shoes. She let her long hair drape over the back of the headboard.

"No," I retorted, a little defensively. "I just know my father mentioned something about you living here..."

"Well, that won't happen," snorted Dawn. "I think I'd rather sleep on a park bench in L.A. then live through another New England winter again, no offense."

"I figured that," I snickered, easing up a little. Dawn seemed just like the relaxed and laidback person she was when I first met her, not someone who was just busted for dealing drugs.

"So what's new?" she asked, getting up and dragging her suitcase to the bed. "Do you and Claudia hang out now? I thought she was some big time druggie."

"She's not a big time druggie," I answered. "She doesn't do anything that most normal kids in high school wouldn't do."

"Then she does things that most normal kids in high school _would _do?" smirked Dawn, placing her clothes in an empty dresser drawer. She eyed me suspiciously, a playful glint in her eyes. "Do you party with her?"

"Sometimes," I answered nonchalantly, shrugging my shoulders. I didn't need to prove my coolness to Dawn. "Abby's having her birthday party tomorrow. You can come if you want to. I mean, if you're allowed..."

I trailed off slightly. I wasn't sure if she wanted to talk about her recent troubles.

"That's okay," replied Dawn. "I don't have a present for..."

"It's not that kind of party," I interrupted, kneeling down to help Dawn unpack. "If you can, you should come. Most of our class will be there. Abby's getting a keg."

"Abby's going to have a kegger?" squealed Dawn, bursting into giggles. "And you're going?"

"What's so funny?" I snapped. "Teenagers party on the East Coast too!"

"I know that, but I didn't think _you _and Abby and Kristy did that sort of thing," she said, suppressing her giggles. "I'm sorry for laughing."

"Don't worry about it," I muttered, putting away a pair of her jeans. "And Kristy definitely does not drink. Or party. Or do anything a normal _human being_ would do."

"I guess things aren't going too well between you two," she commented casually. "Lovers quarrel?"

"How are your friends?" I asked, brushing off her last remark. I would have asked about them by name, but besides Sunny, I wasn't sure who her friends still were.

"Good, for the most part" she answered, flopping on the bed again. "I'm not as close with Maggie anymore, but we still hang out sometimes. It's not like here, where you're practically shunned if you dare befriend anyone outside of your clique."

She talked for a little bit about school and some boy she had a crush on back home. Surprisingly, she seemed pretty happy, without the tone of desperation and regret she had the other night on the phone. From what I gathered, she seemed to have an active and healthy social life; her grades were doing fine and she was involved in a ton of environmental and grassroots programs. She mentioned that she wanted to apply to Berkeley next fall.

"Amalia does too," she chatted cheerily. "She wants to go into Journalism, while I was thinking about maybe doing something with Public Policy." She got a little dreamy eyed. "I really think I'd like that."

"You seem to be doing pretty okay," I couldn't help remark. "I'm glad to hear that."

"Oh, I'm sure you've heard nothing but bad from my dad and Carol," muttered Dawn, her face suddenly clouding. "Carol's out to get me. She does nothing but complain about my appearance, my choice of friends, the things I do. God! Stepmothers are evil!"

I wisely bit my tongue. Instead of answering, I decided to get Dawn her extra pillow. I couldn't seem to find one, so I decided to check the downstairs coat closet, to see if Sharon had put them there by mistake. As I started down the stairs, I heard Dawn calling after me.

"Mary Anne," she yelled from her room. "Your phone is ringing."

I started back up the stairs, to see Dawn coming out of my room holding my phone.

"I didn't want you to miss it," she said, handing the phone to me. "But it's a text message anyway."

I flipped open my phone. It was from Alan, wishing me a goodnight and good dreams. I couldn't help but smile, which caused Dawn to smirk.

"Who's Alan?" she asked playfully, her blue eyes sparkling. "And why is he telling you to have good dreams with a little winking smiley face?"

"You know Alan," I stammered, my face flushing. "And…"

"Wait, Alan Gray?" she interrupted, her face screwing up in confusion. "_That _Alan?Something is going on between you and Alan Gray?"

"Yes," I answered, sighing. I was a little sick and tired of people acting so shocked at the idea of me and Alan. "He's my…boyfriend."

"Oh, wow," she laughed, her hands flying to her mouth in surprise. "That's so…I mean, good for you, but what a strange couple! You've changed, Mary Anne, I can tell."

I took that as a compliment.

Dawn went to bed fairly early, while I went and finished most of my homework for the weekend. Most of my teachers are usually pretty good about giving out weekend homework on Thursday, in case any of us had weekend plans. Of course, most of the kids who had weekend plans weren't the ones did their homework ahead of time. The next day trickled by slowly, more than usual for a Friday. Abby talked nonstop about her party. She supposedly had even hired a DJ. After school, I came home to find Dawn sprawled on her bed reading a copy of _The Nation_, listening to her i-pod.

"What are you listening to?" I asked, coming into her room. She pulled her headphones off and sat up.

"The Elected," she said, closing her magazine. "I saw them at Sunset Junction last year. They're freaking awesome."

"Yeah," I muttered. I had never heard of them. "What did you do all day?"

"Not much," she shrugged. "I slept until ten, then got up and made breakfast and pretty much hung around the house. Mom called to see what I wanted for dinner. Don't worry, I didn't ask for tofu and alfalfa sprout pie or anything like that."

"Hah," I snickered, kicking off my shoes and tossing them into my room down the hall. One hit the doorframe, while the other only made it halfway down the hall. "What did you ask for?"

"She's picking up a vegetarian lasagna and spicy spinach from Cabbages and Kings," she answered. I couldn't help but wrinkle my nose a little. "Oh, come on, it's not that bad."

"I know," I admitted. I was glad that Dawn had selected something that was at least mostly palatable. "After dinner, do you want to come to Claudia's with me? We're going to meet there before we head to Abby's to help set up. I think one of her friends is going to give us a ride."

"Sure," she said brightly. "I'm pretty sure Mom will let me go if I'm with you. Are we spending the night at Abby's?"

"Yeah, I think so," I said. "I don't think either of our parent's will like it if we come stumbling in at three in the morning."

"Yeah," she answered, smiling. "Good thinking."

Sharon came home at about five, and we ate about a half an hour later, without my father. He was staying at the office late, as usual. During dinner, Dawn seemed really mopey and barely said two words. I wasn't sure why. The lasagna was pretty tasty, but I only had about one bite of the spicy spinach. I didn't want to have dragon breath later. After we were done eating, I went upstairs and changed. I came back down wearing a royal blue silk top and a pair of dark jeans with black heels.

"Hot," said Dawn, as I grabbed my bag. "Should I get dressed up more?" She gestured to her outfit of a green long sleeved thermal tee, mouse brown corduroys, and a brightly colored scarf.

"No, you look fine," I answered. "It's not that fancy of a party. I just felt like dressing up. Besides, I'm sure Claudia has something you could borrow if you really want."

We left, after I told Sharon that we were meeting at the Shillabar's before heading to Abby's. I didn't want her to know the truth, in case she ended up telling my father. Not that she really seemed to care; she pretty much waved us out the door after hugging and kissing Dawn and telling her to be careful about eighty times. She said nothing to me.

"I thought we were meeting at Claudia's," said Dawn as we started down the street. "Are we going to the Shillabars first or something?"

"No," I replied. "But I'm really not supposed to hang out with Claudia. Soooo…"

"So, you lied," she smirked. "Sneaky, sneaky…"

Dawn's bad mood seemed to have dissipated almost completely. She was again smiling and happy, practically skipping down the street.

"Why were you so upset during dinner?" I asked, reaching into my purse for a piece of gum. "Did you find a piece of beef in your lasagna or something?"

"No, I just didn't have anything to say," she responded hesitantly. "I feel bad for what I did and what I put mom through."

She looked at the ground, her hands in her pockets.

"So what do you think is going to happen?" I asked, handing her piece of gum. "Do you think you're going to live with Carol and Jack again?"

"Not if Carol has anything to do with it," murmured Dawn. "She's turned into a real bitch. She goes through all my things when I'm at school, just looking for anything that might be even slightly incriminating. As if I can't tell that everything's out of place. Plus, every time I bring a boy over, she totally hits on him. It's disgusting."

I couldn't help but laugh, even though Dawn remained stony faced.

"Why do you think she dislikes you so much?" I asked delicately, stopping to rub the back of my heel. My shoes were not exactly comfortable.

"I don't know," shrugged Dawn, shoving her hands into her pocket. "I think we just butt heads on a lot things. At first she was really cool, more like a friend than a stepmother. But lately she's been so strict. And she just dotes on Gracie…"

Dawn's voice trailed off. I felt like she had more to say, but I didn't want to push her any further.

The front door to Claudia's house was open, so we let ourselves in and ran up the stairs to her room, just like old times. Claudia was sitting at her vanity, braiding her hair into cornrows. She nearly jumped a mile when she saw us in the mirror.

"Oh my Lord, you scared the hell out of me!" she cried, twisting a rubber band at the end of a braid. "What do you think of this hair?"

"It looks nice on you," I said, taking a seat on her bed. "It's not for me, though."

Dawn half-shrugged and stood awkwardly in the doorway.

"Yeah, I don't really like it either," said Claudia. She undid the tiny braids and shook out her long dark hair. "That was a waste of two hours."

She turned around in her chair and smiled at both of us.

"You can come in, Dawn," she stated brightly, nodding to the bed. "Don't worry, I don't have ants anymore. I kicked the candy habit long ago."

Dawn laughed shyly and hesitantly took a seat next to me. Claudia smiled and disappeared under the bed beneath me. Dawn eyed me suspiciously. I was going to ask if she was okay, when Claudia emerged with a bottle of Malibu.

"Do you have a liquor cabinet underneath there?" asked Dawn, smirking.

"You'd be surprised," answered Claudia, dusting herself off. She poured us drinks into three slightly dirty shot glasses that were sitting on her desk. Dawn eyed me strangely again, yet she didn't refuse the shot when Claudia handed it to her.

"Do you want money for any of this?" I asked, ignoring Dawn's weird glances.

Claudia shook her head no and downed a shot. Dawn and I followed, even though I nearly gagged.

"Don't worry about it," she said, grinning and pouring another shot.

She began to pour us a second drink, but I Dawn and I both declined it.

"Consider it a present for tutoring me this week," she continued, after swallowing another shot. "I got an A minus on my English exam. But I'm almost certain I failed my math test. I didn't even get to the last page."

She laughed, although it wasn't really that funny. I would have been mortified if I hadn't been able to complete a question, let alone a page. She sat down again at her vanity and began brushing the kinks out of her hair. Dawn began flipping through Claudia's CDs, and we eventually ended up listening to some indie band that was supposedly very popular while Claudia did our hair and make-up. I made a mental note to update my music collection.

Before we left for Abby's, we each had another shot of Malibu. It was Claudia's fourth, which made me a little worried. It was only seven thirty and Claudia was already quite tipsy. We started down the stairs, when Claudia turned around suddenly.

"I almost forgot something," she said, giggling and stumbling a little back to her room. "I'll meet you guys downstairs."

Dawn started to give me another look, but I cut her off before she had the chance.

"Stop making those faces!" I hissed. "What's the matter, anyway?"

"Claudia's pretty wild," she whispered, not wanting to be heard by Claudia or her parents who had returned home a few minutes earlier and were listening to NPR in the kitchen. "She's drunk already."

"She's not drunk, she's just…tipsy," I replied uncertainly. "Besides, you drank too."

"Not like a sailor home from shore leave," she shot back, although still completely cool in temper. "What's she doing in there, anyway?"

"Probably hiding her alcohol," I answered, but I started down the hall to Claudia's room anyway. "I'll check on her."

Her door was slightly ajar, and I peered around the corner. Claudia was holding her hollow book, and seemed to be counting something. I opened the door slightly, and Claudia nearly jumped a mile, slamming the book shut.

"Oh my Lord, is this scare the shit out of Claudia day?" she shrieked, her face flushing. She hugged the book to her chest protectively. Yet she flashed a smile as soon as she caught her breath. "I'll be right down."

"What are you doing?" I asked. I couldn't help it. Claudia was acting very shady.

"I was just getting some extra cash," she answered casually, opening the book to me. "See?"

Inside laid some rolled up bills and other harmless looking objects.

"Oh," I said, flooded with relief. I felt bad for doubting my friend. "I just wanted to see if you were ready."

"Yuppers," she chirped happily. She zipped her purse and we rejoined Dawn in the hall.

We met Mr. Kishi in the kitchen, who eyed us warily but said nothing. I was glad Mrs. Kishi was in the bathroom; her Stepford mom act was starting to bug me. We gave a half hearted greeting and Mr. Kishi grabbed his car keys; Claudia was currently on good terms with her parents after her A minus in English and had roped her father into giving us a ride. Claudia managed to make it out of the house without staggering, but fell flat on her face halfway to the sidewalk.

"Heh, Claudia, those are some tough heels to walk in," adlibbed Dawn, while I quickly yanked her up.

Mr Kishi turned around and knitted his brow at us, but said nothing.

"Yeah, I'm always tripping," she giggled with a wink, although she managed to sound coherent and articulate.

Dawn wisely slipped into the front seat, while I grabbed Claudia and piled into the back. Dawn managed to capture Mr. Kishi's attention in a conversation about global politics, while I worried that he would smell the vodka on all of our breaths. I wasn't sure how he could be that oblivious. The whole ride I had horrible visions of us pulling into the Stevenson's driveway just as Abby was lugging a giant keg through the front door. Of course, when we showed up, her house looked entirely silent and serene, much to my relief. We quickly hopped out and made a beeline for the front door, barely looking at Mr. Kishi as he pulled away.

"Whoa, I really have to piss," cried Claudia as we burst into the entranceway. She ran ahead of us to the bathroom.

"Claudia's nuts," muttered Dawn as soon as we were alone. "Although, I guess if my dad and Carol were as ignorant as the Kishis, I would do half the stuff she does simply because I could get away with it."

"Get away with what?" called Abby, entering the hall.

She was holding a bunch of balloons.

"Do you like them? My Grandma had them delivered for my birthday. I thought I'd put them in the hallway."

"Nice," said Dawn, glancing around the foyer. I forgot she had only visited Abby's house maybe once or twice years earlier.

"Hey Dawn, glad to have you on the East Side," Abby joked, making the symbol with her fingers. "Want to see the spread?"

We followed her into the rec room, where she had a full keg on ice, plus two coolers full of beer cans and bottles. She had tables set up for flip cup and pong. The slightly sketchy DJ was setting up his equipment in the corner.

"Yo, DJ Casplash!" she yelled to him. "Check yourself before you wreck yourself!"

He cocked his head at us, but I think I saw him roll his eyes.

"I pretty much have everything set up," she said, flopping down on the couch. "There wasn't much to do, other than get the alcohol and plastic cups."

"How_ did_ you get the alcohol?" asked Dawn, sitting next to her.

"I paid that bitchy waitress Angelina from the Argo seventy five bucks to pick it all up for me," she laughed. "I guess she's been supplying Cokie Mason for almost a year now. Oo, let me show you the VIP selection."

She led us into the kitchen, where I noticed that the mud room was almost entirely stuffed with extra beer. Abby gleefully showed us the contents of her fridge, which was stocked with rows and rows of jello-shots. Plus, fifteen bottles of various kinds of liquor were lined up along the counter.

"Wow, all of this must have cost a fortune!" cried Dawn, picking up a bottle of Grey Goose. "Did Hanukah come early this year?"

"Let's just say it's a birthday gift courtesy of Mom," quipped Abby, picking up a bottle of Jose Cuervo and unscrewing the top. "May she rue the day she ever gave me her charge card."

She took a giant swig.

"Ole!" she laughed, tequilia spilling out of the sides of her mouth. She plunked the bottle hard down on the counter, causing more tequila to spill down the sides of the bottle.

Claudia soon joined us in the kitchen, and we each had a jell-o shot at her suggestion. She quickly helped herself to one more.

"Starting early?" snickered Abby playfully. "No one will even be here for another half an hour."

"She already started early," Dawn whispered in my ear.

I nudged her with my elbow and mouthed for her to keep quiet. If Claudia wanted to get drunk early, that was her own business. I was certain that despite my own doubts Claudia had partied enough to know her own limits. Besides I was feeling much more relaxed now that I was actually at Abby's, and the jello-shot and Malibu from earlier were starting to kick in. As the first guests started to arrive, Dawn and I went into the kitchen to make a drink.

"Do you want a margarita?" asked Dawn, looking in the cupboard. "There's some mix in here. I'll make us some before it gets too crowded."

"Sure," I said. I opened the cabinet and grabbed two margarita glasses. "Thanks."

"You know, it's pretty cool that you let loose a little," said Dawn, packing the blender with ice. "You're not that mousy anymore."

"Oh, thanks," I scoffed, watching the blender swirl everything together. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"I said you weren't mousy," sighed Dawn, rolling her eyes. "Last time I was here you were practically Kristy's bitch, too quiet for your own good, and stayed home alone on Friday nights, forget attending _drinking _parties. It's pretty cool we can hang out and be chill now."

"So you can only hang out with me when I drink?" I remarked, folding my hands across my chest.

"No, you're just more relaxed," commented Dawn, shrugging her shoulders. "A year ago you would have flipped if Claudia offered you a drink in her bedroom. You're not so concerned anymore about getting into a little trouble. Although I think that's all Claudia is."

"Trouble?" I smirked. "At least she didn't get caught dealing marijuana."

I felt a small bubble of guilt forming in my chest as soon as the words left my lips.

"Sorry," I stammered, sipping my margarita. "I didn't mean…"

"It's fine," she said, drawing in a deep breath. "But there's something I have to tell you…"

Dawn never got the chance to finish, as a stream of people flooded the kitchen, including Stacey McGill and Sheila MacGregor.

"Hey, Dawn," said Stacey quizzically, fairly surprised by my stepsister's presence on the East Coast.

"Hey," she answered nonchalantly. "Want a drink? I guess I don't mind playing bartender tonight."

Dawn winked at me. I returned it with a smile and went to see who else had arrived while Dawn checked for sugar free mixers. The music had started, and there were about ten kids mingling in the rec room. Alan was among them.

"Hello," I said, coming up to him. I gave him a peck on the mouth.

"You taste like margarita," he replied, slipping an arm around my shoulder. "Or at least I think. Let me see again."

I laughed, when I noticed Cary Retlin standing in a corner, talking to a girl who looked very familiar, at least from the back. She had long dark hair, and was wearing an extremely short skirt and three inch heels.

"I know, can you believe that?" commented Alan, seeing where my attention had wandered.

"That can't be…" I started, but my voice trailed off in disbelief.

I walked over to them, but before I had a chance to tap on Kristy's shoulder, she spun around and looked at me through about an inch of make-up.

"What do you want?" she sneered, looking at me eye to eye. In her giant heels we were the exact same height.

"Whoa, Kristy, what are you doing here?" I cried, practically keeling over from shock.

"I was invited, wasn't I?" she exclaimed nastily, putting one hand on her hip. "I'm here to party."

Much to his surprise, she grabbed the cup of beer from Cary's hands and downed it one gulp.

I was pretty sure my jaw hit the floor.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

"Oh God, that's terrible," she sputtered, choking back a cough.

Yet Kristy quickly suppressed any look of disgust and glared at me through a web of thick, clumpy eyelashes. I think it was the first time she had ever used mascara.

"What are you doing here?" I gasped, slowly getting back my senses. "Why are you dressed like that?"

It was the first time I had seen Kristy in a skirt in almost a year. She had even talked about wearing a tuxedo to the Fall Ball.

"So, you're the only one who can have fun?" she retorted, her eyes snapping. "I was invited and since I doubt an RSVP was required, I decided to come at the last minute. Do you have a problem with that?"

Cary Retlin edged away nervously and joined Alan and a small group of other people by the keg. The party was slowly starting to grow.

"I thought drinking was against your principles," I remarked snidely. "You shouldn't drink if you're just doing it to fit in."

Kristy laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Oh, please," she chided, placing a hand on one hip. "Don't feed me that line of crap. Why do you drink? Or hang out with Claudia and her crowd? Don't tell me it's because you have a ton in common. _You_ want to feel cool for once in your life, and Claudia…I don't know, maybe she needs to copy your homework or something."

The last remark stung a little, but I brushed it off, keeping my temper down. People were beginning to stare.

"I don't need to feel cool," I answered calmly. "This isn't a television show. No one is concerned with that. This is about having fun and a good time. Something you know nothing about."

"Whatever, Mary Anne," she snorted, rolling her eyes again. "Go rejoin your asshole boyfriend and stupid friends."

Before I had a chance to answer, she stormed into the living room, grabbing Cary Retlin's beer from his hands again as she exited. My party mood had completely dissipated. I sat down on the couch, draining the contents of my margarita. Abby entered from the kitchen, wearing a camera around her neck and a ridiculous pink, fuzzy tiara on her head. It had a giant six printed on it, except someone had drawn a number one in front of it. She plopped down into the seat next to me.

"Did you see what Mari gave me?" laughed Abby, showing off her tiara. "Isn't it fucking rad?"

"It's beautiful," I joked, forcing a smile. "Did you see Kristy?"

"No!" exclaimed Abby, jumping out of her seat. "She's here? Where?"

"She went into the living room," I said, nodding towards the door. "She was drinking a beer."

"What?" shouted Abby, her eyes nearly bulging out of her head. "This I need to see."

She turned the camera on.

"Abby, are you taking pictures?" I asked, sitting up straight.

"Of course," she answered, turning on the flash. "Why wouldn't I be? Say cheese!"

She aimed the camera at me and took a picture before I had a chance to argue.

"Hey!" I cried, holding up my hand a moment too late. I suppose it was true that alcohol slowed one's reaction time. "I had a drink in my hand! I could get in big trouble! Besides I'm sure I looked terrible."

"Oh, don't worry about it," smirked Abby, putting down the lens. "Your glass was empty. It could have been ginger ale for all anyone knows. Now, I need to get me a picture of Thomas!"

She ran into the living room. I got up and joined Alan and the others at the keg. Alan was attempting to balance a can of Busch at a 45 degree angle. It toppled over before he had a chance to catch it, spilling its contents over Cary's shirt.

"Fucking ass," Cary muttered, trying to shake out his shirt with one hand and hit Alan with the other.

"It worked with a can of Coke," laughed Alan, half-heartedly fending off Cary's weak punches. "Dude, you are the worst punch ever!"

"Maybe you should get Abby to stand in for you," I joked, shaking off the earlier incident with Kristy.

A bunch of people around me laughed. Cary screwed up his face in mock offense and began playfully to chase me around the rec room with what was rest of the can of Busch. I shrieked and tried to run away, but not before Cary manage to dump about a quarter of a can down the front of my shirt.

"Cary, you jerk, this is silk!" I practically screamed, looking down at my ruined shirt. "Why the hell would you do that? _I _didn't spill anything on you!"

"Calm down," he said, laughing. "I didn't mean to. Have your boy-toy pay for the dry cleaning. It's his fault."

"Asshole," I cried, punching him in the arm.

Cary actually winced, which made me laugh. I punched him again, except this time I stumbled and fell into his arms. I laughed and turned around. Logan was standing in the doorway of the room, with a look of absolute disgust on his face.

"Ugh, do you have to hit on all my friends?" he said, drawing out every syllable. He had managed to subdue most of his southern accent over the years, but his anger had caused him to relapse.

"I wasn't…what are you talking about?" I stammered, shocked at his statement. I looked quizzically at Alan, who was shooting nasty looks at Logan, who was giving him equally nasty looks back. Cary snuck out of the crossfire, which was probably the wisest choice.

"Don't start something now," Alan said to my fuming former boyfriend, trying to stay calm. "I thought things were cool."

"Well, I guess things aren't . Don't worry about it," snapped Logan. "I'm going home."

With that, he left the room, which had grown rather silent, in am angry huff. Someone in the corner muttered something about Logan and a vagina, which sent peals of laughter across the room. Alan and I were the only ones who remained stony-faced.

"What was…" I started.

"Don't worry about it," he said a bit distantly, handing me his can of beer. "I'm going to go talk to him."

With that, he left in the same direction as Logan, leaving me alone in the center of the room.

"Ooooo, Mary Anne, causing boy trouble," cat called Austin Bentley, who I think was the same person who had just made the remark about Logan.

I blushed and pushed my way into the kitchen, where things were hopefully calmer. The house was starting to fill up rapidly, as I'm sure word had spread about the abundance of alcohol. I spotted Dawn on the other side of the room, half listening to Shawna Riverson drunkenly prattle on about something likely uninteresting. She saw me across the room and excused her self from the conversation.

"Hey," she said, making her way through the crowd. "What's the good word?"

"Drama," I replied, recounting the events from the rec room. "I don't know what's gotten into people. "

"Wow," she giggled. "And I thought my evening was starting off bad. Shawna Riverson wouldn't leave me alone."

"Have you seen anyone else?" I asked, glancing around the room.

It was filled with a ton of people, some that I didn't recognize. I saw Greer Carson talking to a small circle of people who looked vaguely familiar.

"There are SDS kids here?" I asked, turning to Dawn, who just shrugged.

"I don't know any of them, really," she said, shifting a little uncomfortably. "Do you want to go outside and get some fresh air?"

"Sure," I answered gladly. It was beginning to get a bit cramped. I wasn't drunk, but my head was beginning to spin from the crowdedness.

En route to the Stevenson's sun porch, I grabbed a bottle of vodka and a can of Coke. I didn't see any plastic cups. I figured I could mix them in my mouth.

"Easy there, killer," remarked Dawn, eyeing the vodka bottle. "The night is young. Besides, vodka tastes terrible with Coke.

"I'm fine," I said, taking a seat on the porch swing. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Nothing since the margarita," answered Dawn, sitting down next to me. "I'm not really all that much into drinking. I like going to parties, but not getting completely smashed."

While she talked, she started to take something out of her pocket. I immediately recognized it as a joint.

"Dawn, where did you get that?" I gasped, picturing her hiding in the lining of her suitcase. "Please tell me you didn't bring that on the plane."

"I'm not stupid," snapped Dawn, pulling a lighter from her pocket. "Weed is just as accessible in Stoneybrook as it is in California, you know.

I nodded, remembering what I had seen in Claudia's purse the other day.

"I bought it off that kid that used to like Stacey, the one that played basketball or baseball or something," she said, her voice a little calmer. "It's not as if drinking until you barf is really any better for you."

"Still, I don't know," I started. "You just got busted for dealing, and now you're lighting up? Are you sure that's wise?"

"Look, I don't smoke that often," remarked Dawn, passing the joint between her fingers. "I just don't really know anyone here, at least not too well anymore, so I feel a little uncomfortable and awkward. And the whole situation with me selling pot…it's not…you don't know the whole story."

Dawn stared ahead, her jaw steely locked.

"Do you want to tell me the whole story?" I asked, remembering that she had wanted to tell me something earlier.

"No, not right now," she sighed, lighting up the joint. She took a few short puffs on the end before letting it out slowly. It smelled weird. "There's too much drama for one party as is, without me adding onto it."

I let it go at that. Whatever she was hiding, I wasn't going to get it out of her now. Dawn smoked in silence, while I tried to choke down the vodka and coke. Dawn was right, it did taste terrible. I soon resorted to drinking straight vodka. It wasn't too much for me to handle, as long as I took slow sips. I preferred that over taking shots.

"You can go back inside, if you want," said Dawn after a few silent minutes. "You don't want to miss all the excitement."

"That's alright," I answered, sitting back in my seat. "I'll wait until you're done."

"I think I might stay out here for awhile," she said, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket. "I think I'm gonna call Sunny. I haven't talked to her since I've been in Connecticut."

"Okay," I replied, taking the hint. "Just let me know if you want to talk about anything."

"Will do," she responded absentmindedly, her phone already to her ear.

Leaving Dawn alone on the back porch, I returned inside to find Abby's kitchen in absolute chaos. I could barely fight my way through the crowd, which seemed to have grown considerably in size. The floor was practically soaked with beer, and someone seemed to have overturned the entire silverware drawer onto the kitchen table. A senior girl whose name I couldn't remember was standing on the counter in just her bra and panties shouting along with music with a bottle of gin in one hand. The whole scene looked ridiculous, like a shot from a bad teen comedy.

I made my way in the dining room, still sipping on the bottle of vodka. A couple of people were playing a card game around the table. Howie was in the corner, puking in the Stevenon's potted bamboo plant.

"Ugh, that's disgusting, at least have the courtesy to use the vase," I heard one of the card players remark as I left the room. I stumbled over the threshold, which made them laugh. I had drank about a quarter of the bottle, so I wasn't too surprised that I couldn't walk straight.

In the rec room, I could see that I wasn't the only one who was more than a little tipsy. Abby was practically dancing on the furniture, at one point jumping on Austin Bentley's back, who was busy trying to play a game of beer pong against Clarence King. The only person who didn't look like they were having any fun was Kristy, who was propped up against a wall looking incredibly annoyed. Cary Retlin was talking to her sloppily, although she didn't seem to be paying the slightest attention to him. I downed about a shot's worth of vodka, before setting it down and making my way over to Abby.

"Is Kristy having any fun at all?" I yelled to Abby over the noise. The DJ was blasting the music. "Do you think you could tell DJ Kerplunk to turn it down a little bit?"

"Ha, it's Kasplash, not Kerplunk," laughed Abby. "And I tried to get Thomas to do a keg stand, but she called me an moronic lush and threatened to punch _me_ in the nose, so I didn't push the issue. Oh well, more beer for me."

"She should just go home," I stammered. The room was beginning to spin. "She's not having a good time and she's bringing down the whole room."

"Nah, she'll loosen up, maybe" remarked Abby, leaning on Austin's shoulder, who shrugged her off rather rudely. "Anyway, this is the best freakin' party ever. Who cares if Kristy can't enjoy it!"

"Have you seen Alan anywhere?" I asked, glancing around the room. I realized I hadn't seen him in awhile, at least not since he ran after Logan.

"I haven't seen him," said Abby, looking around the room. "Is he maybe outside? I saw him go out the front door earlier. I don't think he left. At least I hope he didn't. I'll kick his ass."

"Thanks," I muttered. "I'll go look."

"Speaking of people going MIA, have you seen Claudia?" asked Abby, filling up another cup of beer from the keg. "She was talking to Jacqui Grant earlier, but then they both disappeared. The same thing happened earlier."

"I haven't seen her or Jacqui," I answered. "But I haven't been in all the rooms. By the way, you might want to check out the kitchen. It looked pretty crazy in there."

"Well, that's where all the booze is," replied Abby, downing her beer. She let out a huge belch. "That's why everyone's here."

"Doesn't it bother you that all these people are just using you for your alcohol?" I asked, as Abby reached for another cup of beer.

The thought had never really crossed my mind before, but as much fun as everyone was having, I really don't think I would have wanted to spend my birthday with a bunch of people who were more concerned with getting completely hammered than wishing me a happy birthday. I doubt if half the people here really even knew who Abby was, let alone that it was her birthday.

Abby just shrugged and downed her beer, probably one of many that evening.

"This is exactly what I wanted," she answered, swaying unevenly. "This the best birthday I've ever had. At least the best in years. Usually it's just my mom, Anna and I, and one of those crappy store bought cakes. I never get to have a big birthday party. Well, except for my bat mitzvah. But this is much better."

"Okay," I answered uncertainly. "As long as this is what you want. I'm going to go find Alan."

For a moment, it looked like Abby might fall forward on her face. But she managed to catch herself on the edge of the table, spilling most of the cups from the now abandoned game of beer pong. I thought she might be sick, but she stumbled off to join the booze loving crowd in the kitchen.

I grabbed a beer for myself, and headed out the front door to find Alan. There were a few kids hanging out on Abby's front porch, mostly clutching drinks and talking. Alan was nowhere to be seen. I quickly surveyed the yard, but except for a few scattered cups and some people coming up the walkway, it was empty.

I turned to go back inside, only to nearly smack right into Alan.

"Hey," I shouted, pushing him gently. "I was looking for you. What's wrong with Logan?"

"A lot," he said, running his fingers through his hair. "I don't really want to talk about it. Not right now."

As tried to walk past me, the usual prankster gleam was gone from his eyes. Suddenly I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"What did Logan say to you?" I asked, following him down into the empty yard, away from the other kids. "Why are you going?"

"I just…I don't want to do it…I mean, talk about it, tonight," he answered, the words falling plainly out of his mouth.

"Do what?" I asked flatly, although I already knew what it was and I'm sure my tone revealed that much.

My first real romance since controlling, overbearing Logan was now over. And it was all controlling, overbearing Logan's fault.

"It's just…we can't," he stammered. "Logan, you were his first girlfriend, Mary Anne, and he doesn't want to see you with anyone else."

"And because Logan doesn't want to see me with anyone else, I'm not allowed to date!" I cried incredulously, slurring a little. I had drank a ton of vodka. "That's the most ridiculous notion I've ever heard. And I can't believe you're breaking up with me because Logan's too much of a pansy to handle it."

"Logan's my best friend," he shot back. He didn't sound angry, just sad. "I can't betray that."

"So, you don't want to be with me anymore?" I asked. I fought back the tears that were pushing towards the corners of my eyes.

"No, it's not that at all," he said, softly, "I do want to be with you."

He started to put his hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged it off.

"Why don't you just go date him then, if you care so much about Logan Bruno," I hissed, the tears breaking free and streaming down my face. "I'm sorry for intruding on your great romance."

Alan opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off-

"In fact, maybe you should leave right now and tend to your love's poor, fragile ego, instead of wasting your time with me! After all, there are plenty more of his friends here that I can hit on, as he said earlier, and maybe one of them is man enough to stand up to him!"

I barely heard the words as they stumbled out of my mouth, but Alan looked as if he had been slapped.

"You're drunk," he said, quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Feisty and tempestuous, but incredibly drunk."

He attempted a wounded smile, but I glared at him through my tears.

"Just go," I whimpered, losing all of my previous feistiness.

I turned around before he had a chance to say another word. I was glad the yard was mostly empty, as I was sure a river of black mascara was pouring down my face. Not that I really cared what anyone thought of me at that moment. As I walked dejectedly up the steps, I spotted a lone figure waiting for me in the doorway. Kristy Thomas, in her too short skirt and clumpy makeup. Kristy Thomas, wearing a know-it-all and told-you-so look on her face. Kristy Thomas, the last person I wanted to see at that moment.

"What was that about?" she asked smoothly, her eyes dancing.

"Nothing," I muttered, trying to push my way past her, but she refused to budge.

"Did he just break up with you?"

Her voice wasn't mean, exactly, but her expression was far too smug to be sympathetic.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said, somehow managing to keep my voice clear. I tried to walk past her, but again, she blocked the entrance.

"He did, didn't he," she answered, her eyes widening. With delight, I presumed.

"Yes, you'll be very happy to know, he did," I spat in her face. "I know nothing pleases you more than seeing me unhappy, you coldhearted bitch."

I thought about physically slapping her, but instead I pushed her hard into the doorway, in an attempt to get her out of the way. I must not have realized my own strength, because instead of simply knocking her out of the entrance, Kristy slipped in her heels and fell straight onto the ground, her eyes wide with shock.

"Ouch," she yelped, rubbing her elbow, which had hit the doorknob on the way down.

At first I thought that was the end of me. I'm no athlete, and there's no doubt who would win in a fight between Kristy and myself. I could only hope that someone would break it up before I looked like I had been thrown off of a building.

But then her eyes crinkled, and for the first time in ages, Kristy's guise of superiority melted as she began to cry. Looking like she had just been spit on by the whole school, she stood up quickly, shielding her face from the partygoers that were watching rather intently in the hallway, and flew past me out the door. Her face was a mixture of hurt, anger and embarrassment. A bubble of guilt formed in my chest.

"Kristy, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that," I called after her, following her down the steps.

She spun around, her own face now sporting a river of mascara. She was no longer Madam President, or Ms. Chairman of the Board, but 16 year old Kristy Thomas, who had been my closest friend for almost all of my life.

"You did so mean it," she cried, wiping her tears angrily with the back of her hand. "You call me a bitch, but at least I never did anything _violent_, especially when I was just trying to comfort you."

"You call that comforting?" I couldn't help but snicker. "Kristy you are about as sensitive as…as Hitler."

She laughed mirthfully, throwing back her head.

"That's really nice," she answered, "I forgot you hold a gold medal in sensitivity. Well, if you're so sensitive, how come I'm the one crying?"

"I am crying," I snapped, pointing to my mess of a face.

"Yeah, over _Alan Gray_, who've you dated, for what, a week?" she retorted snottily, straightening her back. "We've been friends for 16 years, but I guess that doesn't matter to you. You should have known that whatever fights we've had these past weeks, I will always be there if you need me, and that…that…

Her voice was almost shrill, and I could tell she was fighting back more tears.

"I know I've been a real bitch lately, but I've been really stressed out, and…and…you're making a real mess of your life, hanging out with Claudia and this crowd. You look like you're about to pass out on the lawn."

I realized I was swaying slightly, and I tried to steady myself as best as I could. I must have a made a poor effort, because Kristy laughed again. This infuriated me.

"It's my life and I'll do whatever I please," I practically snarled, clenching my fists. "Are you upset because you can't control me anymore, or because I no longer need you as a friend?"

Her face practically crumpled.

"Ouch," she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears.

I was too shocked at myself to say anything. She ran across the Stevenson's lawn, headed in the direction of her house. When she was halfway to the sidewalk, she stopped and turned around, glaring at me.

"You'll regret this," she sobbed, kicking off her heels and leaving them on the grass. "You'll feel sorry, Mary Anne."

She ran off, this time at full speed. I suddenly felt hollow, like someone had drained all the fluids out of my body. It was no wonder that I didn't start crying. I wasn't sure how long I stood out on the lawn, but it must have been awhile, because before I knew it Stacey was beside me, wearing a look of concern.

"Are you okay?" she asked, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You look like you're going to be sick."

"I'm fine," I answered flatly, trying to shake myself out of my daze. "I just needed some fresh air."

"Okay," she said uncertainly. "Maybe you should get a glass of water."

"Yeah, that's probably not a bad idea," I replied weakly, trying to smile.

I stumbled back to the house, leaving Stacey on the lawn. She probably thought I was completely wasted, which was true, but at that moment it was the least of my problems. I was already beginning to regret what I had said to Kristy, and her parting words rung in my ears. I wasn't going to be sorry. I already was sorry, about most of the events of the evening.

Once inside, the last thing I wanted to do was join the rest of the party, which was carrying on louder than ever. I trudged slowly upstairs, stepping over a semi-conscious Cokie Mason as I did so.

"Watch it, bitch," she stammered, looking at me through half-closed eyes.

I made sure my boot heel ground into her sprawled fingers as I went up the steps. Leaving behind her cries of pains and half threats, which given her state would likely be forgotten in the morning, I pushed open the door to Anna's bedroom, where I was hoping I could lie down for awhile. Yet I wasn't only one who had come to Anna's room for privacy. A couple who I couldn't recognize in the dark were making out on top of her bed.

"Get out!" a voice hissed from the shadows of the bed.

I hastily shut the door, and stumbled over to Abby's room. The door was slightly ajar and a small beam of light shone through the crack. I could hear a hushed conversation coming from inside. Thinking it might be Abby, and not really caring at this point if it wasn't, I pushed open the door about halfway, and peered cautiously inside. Claudia and Jacqui looked up at me in surprise from Abby's desk.

"Mary Anne," said Claudia, a little uneasily. "How's it going?"

Jacqui, squatting on Abby's laundry basket, shot me a look that it made it clear I was interrupting something.

"Fine," I started, slowly, hanging in the doorway. "What are you guys doing?"

There was an air of suspicion about the room. I could tell from Claudia's nervous laugh that something strange was going on. She spun around in Abby's chair, blocking the desk in the process.

"Nothing," snapped Jacqui. "Why don't you go back downstairs and have another juice box?"

"Ummm…" I started, at a loss of words.

Her nasty comment stung a little, not so much because of her lame insult, but because Claudia made no attempt to defend me. Instead, her eyes darted nervously back and forth between us. She kept up her maniacal zigzagging long after Jacqui and I had stopped our exchange. I noticed her face looked a little pale, and she was drumming her fingers on the armrest in time to her eyeballs.

"What's going on?" I demanded, moving past the doorway.

"Nothing," cried Jacqui, exasperated, but she recoiled a little as I made my way over to the desk.

My heart immediately stopped at the sight of the desk. Two white little lines were neatly cut on top of Abby's lighted makeup mirror. Cocaine. I could see chalky remnants where two other lines had been previously. One look at Claudia and Jacqui and I could tell where they had gone.

I didn't know much about drugs, but I knew that cocaine was bad. Very bad. Worse than drinking and worse than pot. It was something I had never even dreamed I would see outside of a movie or television, let alone watch a friend use. To my horror, Jacqui grinned at me wickedly, then leaned over and snorted one of the lines off the desk. She rubbed her nose and twitched a little.

"Oh yeah," she moaned, slumping off the laundry basket.

For a second, I thought she had overdosed and was going to die. But then she laughed, seeing the terrified expression on my face.

"Oh, please," she taunted, jumping on top of the basket into a crouching position. "I told you to go, _Marrrry Annnnnne_."

"Claudia, this is really bad," I said quietly, my voice full of worry.

"I'm fine," she answered, her eyes so wide I thought they were to fall out of her head. "It's all good. It's all good."

She eyed the other line of coke.

"No," I pleaded. "It's not all good. Please don't do this to yourself."

"Don't listen to _Marrrryyy Annneee_," slurred Jacqui, who was now standing on top of the laundry basket. "Are you going to tell on us, _Marrryyy Annnee_?"

Claudia and I both glared at Jacqui. I thought about pushing and locking her in Abby's closet, but I didn't really want to take on an already tough girl who was strung out on coke.

"_Marrryyy Annne_" she jeered, laughing so hard her body shook. At least she found her self amusing. "_Marrrryy Annneee_, _Marrry Annnneee, Marrrry…_"

"Shut up!" shrieked Claudia, standing up. She pushed Jacqui off the basket, who fell onto the desk with a loud thud, knocking nearly everything off, including the drugs.

"Fuck!" yelled Claudia, dropping to her knees, looking in a vain attempt to find the scattered coke. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck you all!"

She kicked the laundry basket, and then kicked Jacqui, who had curled into a laughing heap on top of the desk. She simply jumped up and knocked what had remained untouched into Claudia's face. I was glad Abby had wisely put her laptop away before the party started.

"Way to go!" Jacqui applauded Claudia, clapping her hands. "Great fucking job! Woo-hoo!"

Jacqui tried to hop from the desk to the bed, and instead collided with the dresser. A porcelain dolphin crashed to the floor. Seemingly unhurt, she laughed and jumped onto the bed with a single leap. Claudia glowered at her for a moment, but then turned her attention towards me. She almost immediately broke into huge sobs.

"Fuck," she moaned, taking her head into her hands. "I'm fucking miserable here."

"Claudia, it's going to be okay," I said soothingly, a little frightened.

My problems suddenly seemed very small. I started to pat her back gently, but she shook me off roughly.

"It's not okay," she sobbed, her body practically convulsing. "I was coming down and I needed that, and now it's gone, and I remember that I'm a fuck-up again."

"You're not a fuck-up," I protested, trying to assuage her hysterics. "You're a talented…"

"Nobody," she finished for me, her eyes wet with desperation.

"That's not true," I said, keeping my voice low. "You just have some problems. We all have problems."

"Well, my problems are pretty bad right now," she bawled.

There was no consoling her. She sunk to the floor, crying into the carpet. Suddenly my mind could no longer cope with all the events of the ruined evening- Alan breaking up with me, my fight with Kristy, and now this-, and I burst into tears that rivaled Claudia's. I was, after all, a champion crier. And apparently, a champion at hurting other people.

Jacqui snickered from the bed. She gave us a look of a utter disgust.

"Wow, you guys sure know how to have a good time," she sneered, hopping off down the bed. "I'm going down stairs where…"

I picked up my head in sudden alarm.

"Shut up" I cut her off, putting up my hand in protest.

I could a hear a sound in the distance, a sound that only meant trouble for everyone. Jacqui froze. Even Claudia stopped crying and looked up from the floor.

Sirens.

Suddenly we all had one big problem.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"Oh my Lord," muttered Claudia, her hands flying to her chest.

"Oh shit!" shrieked Jacqui, her eyes widening in panic. "Oh, shit!"

I tried to curb my own panic, but this was a terrible situation. We were busted and that was the simple truth. I tried to think of a way out, but the only exit was downstairs, and I doubted we could make our way through the mad mass of people to the back door before the police came bursting through the front. Apparently Jacqui had her own opinion on this matter.

"I'm getting the fuck out of here," she cried, glancing nervously from side to side. She jumped off the bed, and flung open Abby's window.

"We can't go out that way," I screamed, attempting to grab her, but she pushed me away with a powerful shove. I fell backward with a thud.

She kicked in the screen with one deft movement and leapt gracefully onto the back porch roof. I had a feeling she had done this before. She gave us one last glance.

"Are you guys gonna stay here with the spilled coke, or are you gonna haul ass?" she called, not expecting an answer. She began to shimmy down the drainpipe.

Claudia and I looked at each other. We both scampered towards the window. I kicked off my heels quickly before crawling over the threshold. I had balance issues while I was sober, and I thought I would fare better in my bare feet. Jacqui was already on the ground and running into the woods behind the Stevenson's house before I even got to the drainpipe. I heard a car door open and slam in front of the house. Not having time to be scared, I imitated Jacqui's movements, awkwardly lowering myself down the gutter.

"Hurry up," hissed Claudia, who started to do the same before I was even halfway down.

As soon as my feet touched the porch, I let go, trying to balance on the ledge. Instead I fell straight into the rose bushes lining the porch.

"Ow," I moaned, trying to get up.

I saw the few students that were outside scrambling away from the house in all different directions. One of them was Dawn, who probably hadn't moved from the back porch all night. She slowed when she saw me.

"Come on," cried Claudia, pulling me up anxiously. "Do you want the police to find you here?"

That was enough motivation for me. I shot up and we both started running full tilt into the woods. I don't think I ever ran so fast in my life. I caught up to Dawn quickly, and even started to pass her.

"Where are you going?" she panted, as I made my way expertly through the trees. I had spent the last three summers playing with the Thomas-Brewers in these woods, and I knew them well.

"Just follow me," I wheezed, glancing back to make sure Claudia was still there. She was only a few paces behind, clutching her side.

I came to a blue painted fence, and immediately began to feel for the loose board, the one that Shannon always managed to nose her way through when no one was looking. After a couple of moments one of the boards swung freely into the Thomas-Brewer's backyard, creating an opening. I slipped through, and Dawn and Claudia followed. Having reached sanctuary and unsure of what to do next, I ducked into the toolshed.

I sat down on a picnic bench that had been stored away until next spring, trying to catch my breath. As I tried not to hyperventilate, an awful feeling churned in the pit of my stomach. There was no way I could get out of this. I was in deep trouble. Instead of slowing down, my heart rate quickened.

Even in the dark, I could tell Claudia was reaching the same state of near frenzy. Only Dawn seemed calm.

"My parents are going to kill me," whispered Claudia, rocking back and forth. "I've never been busted at a party before. Of course, most of the time I usually lie about where I'm going."

"Who do you think called the cops?" asked Dawn, twirling a piece of her hair. "Abby's house is pretty far back from the road, so it's not in plain sight of anyone passing by. I was outside most of the night and it actually wasn't too noisy, not where any of the neighbors could really hear anything, unless they were sitting in their yards listening for it. But I suspect most of them would come over to investigate before calling the police."

That last part was certainly true. Like most neighborhoods in Stoneybrook, this one was fairly close knit, and I would imagine the Kilbournes or Papadakis' or the Brewers would at least attempt to break up a party on their own before involving the authorities. Although this particular party seemed fairly out of control and I doubt anything short of the National Guard could break it up.

"Huh," responded Claudia, after thinking Dawn's statement over for a moment. "I don't know. I'm just glad I got out of there before the cops came. No matter how much trouble I get in, Abby's going to get it the worst of all of us."

I had forgotten about Abby in my panic.

"Do you think she's going to be okay?" I asked, shaking a little. I was starting to get cold, which was not surprising, considering it was mid October in Connecticut and I was wearing a sleeveless shirt. And I was in my stocking feet. Yet I'm sure I still would have been shaking a little even if it had been the middle of summer.

"I'm sure she'll be fine for a little while at least, until her mother gets home," said Dawn flatly, digging her heel into the dirt floor of the shed.

"How much trouble were you in when you got busted for dealing pot?" asked Claudia innocently.

Dawn glanced at me sideways, her eyes flashing with annoyance. I turned red and stared at the floor.

"A lot," she answered shortly, not hiding the displeasure in her voice.

I wasn't sure why she was so upset. She hadn't told me not to tell anyone, and I had to give some explanation for her sudden appearance in Stoneybrook. I didn't see why she cared, either. It wasn't as if she ever came to Connecticut enough for it to really matter.

"Should we call Kristy and see if we can crash here for the night?" asked Claudia, tentatively. She was shaking also.

"I don't know," I replied feebly, my teeth chattering.

"Well, I'm not staying here all night," replied Dawn, stepping out into the Thomas' yard. "I'm either going to find a ride home or have mom pick me up."

My stomach churned. The last thing I wanted to think about was facing my father. My face must have turned green, because Claudia gave me a quizzical look.

"Are you going to throw up?" she said, edging away from me a little on the bench.

"No," I sighed, standing up.

Dawn was right. I couldn't stay in the Brewer's tool shed for the rest of my life. I decided it was time to go home. I thought I could maybe somehow sneak back into the house and brush my teeth and change into something that didn't reek of alcohol before Dad or Sharon noticed I was back. I began to follow Dawn, when she suddenly stopped and ducked back into the tool shed.

"Someone's up" she said, pointing to Kristy's house.

Someone had turned on the kitchen light. I held my breath for a minute, hoping it was just someone getting a glass of water. My hopes were dashed when I heard the back door open and the jingle of the tags on Shannon's collar as she ran down the porch steps.

"Uh-oh" muttered Dawn, sitting back down on the bench.

I sat frozen next to her as Shannon started to bark furiously in our direction. As she neared, her barks quickly abated as she ran into the open tool shed and began covering me with sloppy kisses.

"Shhhh, Shannon," I whispered, trying to push her away. "Go into the yard."

Of course, she didn't listen, but spun in happy circles, and ran over to Dawn and Claudia, begging for pets.

"Stop it," hissed Claudia, also trying to push her away.

Claudia magically produced a Milky Way out of a pocket on her skirt that I hadn't even noticed.

"Here, go fetch," she started, winding up her arm, but Dawn quickly grabbed her hand.

"Claudia, don't!" she cried, snatching the candy bar out of her hand. "Dogs can't have chocolate. She could get really sick!"

Claudia rolled her eyes and tried to grab it back. Shannon jumped up eagerly, happy to play.

"I'm just trying to get her to leave us alone," said Claudia. "Do you want us to get caught?"

"I'd rather be grounded for an entire year then be responsible for killing an innocent dog," shot back Dawn, her voice rising ever so slightly.

Shannon howled in seeming agreement.

"Guys, keep it down," I said, my eyes darting nervously to the porch. I squinted and saw an unidentifiable figure standing in the dark.

I held my breath. Claudia and Dawn stopped squabbling and looked in the direction that I was so pointedly fixed. Luckily, whichever member of the Thomas-Brewer household had taken Shannon seemed to be focused on the noise coming from the direction of the Stevenson household. The faint noise of people yelling and the flashing red and blue lights through the trees seemed to be more interesting. I hoped it would cover up Shannon's discovery of our hiding spot.

"Shannon" yelled the person from the porch, whistling for her to return.

Elizabeth.

Shannon, of course, paid no attention, and circled around Dawn, Claudia and I, all of whom were standing as still as statues. Dawn and I exchanged glances. There was pretty much no way out now.

"Shannon, come up!" yelled Elizabeth, coming down the porch steps. "What are you doing?"

I could run, I thought. I could hide somewhere in the woods. Elizabeth wasn't going to chase after me in her silk nightgown. Claudia's body tensed up and a wild look came into her eyes. For a minute, I thought she was going to bolt. But then she sat down dejected on the bench and put her head in her hands.

Elizabeth nearly jumped out of her slippers when she saw us standing in the tool shed as she went to grab Shannon by the collar.

"Mary-Anne," she gasped, looking at me, then at Claudia to Dawn. "What are you doing here?"

"I," I started, but the words caught in my throat.

"Please don't tell me this has something to do with those police cars at the Stevenson house," Elizabeth asked incredulously. "What was going on at party?"

None of us said anything. Dawn anxiously pulled at her hair and looked at me for an answer. I couldn't even bear to meet Elizabeth in the eye. My stomach was doing flips.

"Mary Anne, where the hell are your shoes?" asked Elizabeth, gawking at my bare feet.

"I, um, lost them," I muttered sheepishly.

"Oh, Mary Anne," she sighed, covering her chest with her arms. I suppose this was done to look stern, but it may have been to cover up her body. Her nightgown was rather revealing and it was the middle of the night in October. All I could say was that Kristy had not inherited her mother's, um, endowments.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Brewer," spoke up Dawn, finally. "Things got a little out of hand."

"I'll say so," she scoffed, shivering a little. "You girls reek of booze. Come on, up to the house. I'm calling your parents."

I was sure I was going to crumble right there and then. Dawn gave me a look that was equally glum and sympathetic. The two of us started to follow Elizabeth and Shannon up to the house. Claudia was still seated on the bench, shaking like someone standing in the rain. Her face scrunched up and she started to cry again.

"Please, Elizabeth, please don't tell my parents," she begged, sobbing.

"I promise this won't happen again. I'm sorry for breaking into your backyard. But please don't call them!"

Elizabeth's expression softened. She sighed and placed a comforting arm around Claudia.

"Come on, let's just go up to the house," she said softly, pulling Claudia up. "Let's get you some water."

I felt like a death-row inmate walking to the execution block. I had heard people use the expression "rock bottom" before, but had never wondered what it felt like to be there. I was sure I had reached a personal rock bottom that night.

Inside the kitchen, we found a rather bewildered Watson, who took one look at us and immediately began to make a pot of coffee. Elizabeth poured us each a glass of water and commanded us to each sit down.

"First off, how are you girls feeling?" she asked, eyeing us each separately.

"Okay," we each mumbled in turn, even though it was clear that all of us were far from it.

Claudia was sitting bent over in a kitchen chair, hiccupping and snot running from her nose freely. I also for the first time noticed how bloodshot Dawn's eyes were in the florescent light. As for me, I was barefoot, smelled worse than a frat house and could barely sit up straight. We were a sorry bunch.

Elizabeth sat down at the kitchen table and folded her hands. I could practically feel the lecture coming on. Luckily Watson had lent her his bathrobe, so I didn't have to stare at Elizabeth in an almost see-through negligee throughout the whole thing.

"Even though I'm very disappointed in all you girls, I understand how it is," she started, trying her best to sound empathetic. "I know how it is to be young, to want to go out and party. But you could have put yourself in a lot of danger tonight."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone lurking in the doorway, listening to the entire conversation.

"And don't think you're off the hook, young lady," called Elizabeth to the unforeseen individual, which confirmed my suspicions that the person was in fact Kristy. "You went to that party too and didn't say anything to me or Watson about what was going on over there."

"And what am I supposed to do, snitch?" she remarked nastily, coming into the room. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"Come here and tell me that," said Elizabeth, eyeing her closely.

Kristy hesitated. I had seen her down at least one beer – I was sure that she hadn't really thought about concealing her alcohol breath after she had stormed away from Abby's party.

"Pull up a chair," ordered Elizabeth.

Kristy looked like she was about to explode as she flounced into an empty seat, her arms crossed.

"Watson, maybe you better go over to the Stevenson's and check on the situation," said Elizabeth, still staring down Kristy.

"That's probably a good idea," he said, moving hurriedly out of the kitchen.

He seemed rather happy not to be dealing with the four drunken teenaged girls in his kitchen. Kristy was still dressed rather risqué and it seemed to make him rather uncomfortable. Although I'm sure the disaster zone that used to be Abby's house wouldn't make him feel any less squeamish. I wondered what poor Abby was doing at the moment. I only hoped she wasn't trying to beat up any policemen.

"Do you know how much trouble Mrs. Stevenson could be in right now?" asked Elizabeth, glancing each of us over. "It's not exactly legal to have 40 underage minors drinking and partying on your property."

I didn't mention that it was actually closer to about 150 kids.

"Plus, if any one got hurt or sick, God forbid, that's a lawsuit waiting to happen. I know this was Abby's party, but I'm sure you all knew about the plans and was well aware there was going to be alcohol."

Not exactly. I never dreamed of getting caught, even though I'm not sure how I ever thought we could have gotten away with throwing such a huge party.

"And did you stop to think about the dangers of alcohol poisoning? About what it does to your body and mind? About how some of those kids are probably just starting to drive, and if they drive anything like my daughter, getting behind the wheel with a few drinks in their system is a tragedy waiting to happen?"

As much as I enjoyed Elizabeth's shot at Kristy, I just wanted her to shut up. I didn't want to be lectured. I was going to hear enough of it later.

"Really girls, what were you thinking?"

None of us said anything for a moment, until Claudia spoke up, "I guess we weren't."

"No kidding," scolded Elizabeth, although that answer seemed to satisfy her, because she said, "Now you girls go upstairs to Kristy's room. I'm going to call each of your parents. I'm sure they will be over shortly."

"Can't they wait down here?" asked Kristy. "They stink."

"Kristy, enough!" cried Elizabeth, standing up so fast she pushed her chair back. "You're in enough trouble, missy, now don't push it!"

With that, Kristy stormed up the stairs, with the rest of us following behind. Once inside her room, Kristy immediately sat down on her bed.

"Please only sit on the carpet," she said snottily. "I'll steam clean it in the morning."

"Fine," I retorted, haughtily. "Believe me, I don't want to be here anymore than you want me here."

She snorted and rolled her eyes.

"This turned out to be a great night," she continued, "I'll probably be grounded until next spring, all thanks to your wonderful party idea."

"Oh shove it, Kristy," cried Claudia. "What is wrong with you? We're all in trouble and no one forced you to that party. In fact…"

She stopped short and stared at the floor.

"What?" said Kristy, crossing her arms. "You can say it. I know you didn't want me there. I'm just the biggest bitch at SHS who never likes to do anything fun. Well you know what, Claudia Kishi, I'd rather be a stuck-up bitch than a loser and user like you, who will probably never amount to anything in her whole life."

"Stop it," said Dawn, in a voice that was both calm and eerie. "There's no point in ripping out each other's throats now. We're all FUCKED. Royally fucked."

"She's right," I added. "So Kristy, you better…"

"Yup, get on my case," she cried, standing up. "I know you three are all buddy-buddy…"

"Please," huffed Dawn. "I'm only here because I'm forced to be. I never wanted to come to Connecticut. I'm probably in the most trouble out of anyone."

"I wouldn't say that," interrupted Claudia.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter, Kristy," I interjected, standing up as well. "I know you called the cops. This mess is all your fault."

"I didn't call the cops," snapped Kristy loudly. She added a little more quietly: "I wouldn't do that."

"Do you expect me to believe that?" I cried. "All of sudden you leave and the next thing you know the cops arrive? I don't think that is much of a coincidence!"

"I wouldn't have done that," hissed Kristy. "Anyone could have the called the cops. It wasn't exactly a quiet and subtle affair at Abby's. I'm sure people the next street over could have heard the noise."

"Why exactly would you have not called the cops?" asked Dawn.

"I can't believe you're all ganging up on me," cried Kristy, throwing her arms up in the air.

"We're not ganging up on you," sighed Dawn. "I'm just asking you a question."

"I wouldn't do it, because well," floundered Kristy, who starting playing with her fingernail. "I guess…because as much as it made me happy to see you get in trouble, I didn't _actually_ want you guys to get in trouble. Especially Abby. She's the only friend I still have. I think. I don't even know."

I felt a slight twinge of guilt. But only a slight twinge. Kristy hadn't exactly made it easy to be her friend over the past few weeks.

"Well, from what I've heard, you haven't exactly made it easy for anyone to be your friend," said Claudia, reiterating my thoughts exactly. "Friendship is a two-way street."

"She's right," I chimed in. "You've been acting selfish. Like the day you wouldn't turn around for my paper. Or the day you wouldn't listen to me on the phone, even though I called you. Or when you refused to pick me up from school…"

"Alright!" shouted Kristy. I sure hoped no in the Watson-Brewer household needed a good night's sleep. "So I've been a crappy friend. I've been under a lot of stress. I'm sorry. Is that what you want to hear? Soorrry!"

It was obvious from her tone that she wasn't sorry at all. And it hit me at that moment that Kristy didn't really care much about our friendship, despite her tears earlier and her fake apology. It was evident that I and my closest friend, whom I had grown up with and known for 16 years, had irrevocably drifted apart.

And that deep down, it really didn't bother me all that much.

I didn't say anything. I had bigger worries. At any moment, my father and Sharon would pull up. The four of us sat in silence, until we heard the first car pull up in front of the house. We heard Mr. Kishi's voice in the foyer and Claudia immediately stiffened.

"Oh my Lord," she said. For a minute I thought she was going to crawl under Kristy's bed and hide. But she stood up and walked towards the door.

"Well, good-bye," she called solemnly, waving to us. "See you next year. Unless I get shipped to a convent in the South Seas, or something."

"It won't be that bad," I said, forcing a smile. "You'll be okay."

Claudia gave me a smile that was as forced as my own, before leaving the room and shutting the door.

After a couple of minutes we heard the car drive away. It was shortly followed by a car pulling up to the house.

Dawn and I looked at each other. I swallowed hard. It was time to face the music.


End file.
